Panda Kisses
by von seckendorf
Summary: After Haruka decides to brave the horrors of a shopping mall to get a welcoming gift for a transfer student, things spin out of control. As she gets drunk and gets stitches, Haruka must figure out how to handle drama without going insane. COMPLETED.
1. Flambeaux

What is wrong with me? I have a story on hiatus with reviewers screaming for an update, and yet here I am starting another fanfic. Someone, please, tell me what's wrong with my head. I can get therapy for it!

**Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon nor its characters. Although I think that I should.**

* * *

The rapid _clicka-clicka-clicka_ of a keyboard echoed in the almost empty room. 

Haruka Tenoh, 16 year old and local track star, yawned as she leaned backwards on the hind legs of her chair. The pencil she had been balancing on the tip of her nose began to rock dangerously. It teetered for a moment and then rolled off, bouncing off the sleeve of her blue varsity jacket (narrowly missing a "T" written in gold thread) and clattering to the floor. Haruka eyed it longingly for a moment, before flicking her gaze upwards at her black-haired friend sitting cross-legged on the teacher's desk. She was, apparently, cleaning her nails with the letter opener.

"Rei..."

The other girl just gave a disinterested, yet questioning grunt as she peered closer at the tips of her fingers. The great care she was treating her nails with irked Haruka to no end. Why did girls sometimes have to be so...girly? Dissatisfied with Rei's response, Haruka repeated the sentence. This time, she took measure to make her tone singsong, wheedling, and incredibly nerve-grating.

"_Rei_..."

"What the hell do you want, Haru-chan?"

The blonde's left eye twitched in annoyance at the unwanted nickname, but she didn't move an inch from her relaxed position. Still stretched out, feet on the desk and leaning against the wall, Haruka shot a knowing smirk at her close friend. It was fun to annoy Rei, as she had always been known to have a short temper and fiery disposition. To her right, another friend of hers (known as Ami) worked furiously at her laptop.

One hand was flying across the keyboard, the sound that had contributed to the disturbed silence, and the other holding a riceball that the blue-haired girl was too busy to eat but also too busy to set down. (The trio had always known when one of them would skip lunch and come here to hang out instead, although only Ami ever had the foresight to bring something to eat.) When asked what she was doing, the answer was a hurried explaination about 'getting a head start on exams'. Said exams were approximately three months away. That was Ami for you.

"Aren't you going to get me my pencil?"

"Get it yourself, lazy flirt."

"Ami, she's disrupting my education by refusing to aid in the learning process!"

"What education are you talking about? You don't _learn_."

Rei twirled the letter opener with one hand, the other brushing away a strand of black hair that had fallen into her eyes. Haruka smirked and cracked her knuckles, then yawned again as she stretched out. The pencil forgotten, the blonde was content to daydream. The sunlight that filtered in through the windows bathed her in warmth, and she soon felt herself nodding off. And she would have done so, if Rei hadn't decided to keep talking.

"So, I hear that Mugen Gakuen High School will be getting a new student."

Haruka blinked as she was jolted from her almost-nap, and sent a brief death glare to her friend. Rei appeared to not notice the pair of annoyed teal eyes burning into her skull. However, she was grinning as she began to go through a folder on the teacher's desk. It was fat, stuffed to the brim with things that dated back three years ago. The black-haired girl briefly wondered why anyone would keep such a monstrous tome of paper on their _desk_ of all places, where it resembled a mutated paperweight. Finding what she was looking for, Rei flung something at Haruka like it was a Frisbee.

Although not employed fast enough to save her pencil, the blonde's hand managed to snatch the paper out of the air as it whizzed by. It was a photograph, about the size of a playing card. Haruka cocked an eyebrow at Rei.

"So? Our school gets loads of transferred students every year. This is just one more newbie we have to avoid tripping over in the halls."

"There is a rumor that this new student is none other than Michiru Kaioh." Ami put in, finally bothering to put down her untouched riceball and return to typing with both hands. Haruka rolled her eyes at her friends' expectations that she should know things like this. The blonde sighed and looked closer at the picture she held in her hands. A pair of smiling aquamarine eyes gazed back out at her.

Long, flowing sea-green locks (were they natural?) framed a pale and rather pretty face. The girl was holding a violin, the slender hand grasping a bow still poised over the strings. She seemed to be wearing a green vest over a black shirt with long sleeves, although that was only noticed in an offhand way. Haruka suddenly got the image of an sea goddess, safe and happy in her element.

"Well, she is kinda cute." _Yeah, and the Mona Lisa is only sorta beautiful._

"I think you should do something for her."

Suddenly becoming robbed of her balance, Haruka tilted backwards and fell off her seat with a crash. Rei laughed unabashed at her friend, becoming near breathless. Ami peeked out to back sure that the blonde wasn't seriously hurt and went back to studying. Making an ungainly scramble to her feet, Haruka felt her ears flush red. She was secretly thankful that no one else had noticed her klutz moment. People might think she was turning into Usagi. After pushing Rei off the desk in revenge, Haruka looked at the photo again.

"What, you mean you want me to go _flirt_ with her now? Or shall I just wait for her to hit on me?"

Rei pulled herself off the floor and brushed off imaginary dust from her clothes. "You're an idiot, Haruka." Matching the blonde glare for glare, the tempermental teenager stalked over to her. "This is _Michiru Kaioh_ we're talking about here. You don't just start chatting up _Michiru Kaioh_!"

At Haruka's deadpan expression, one that clearly asked why the hell someone like her should give a damn about Michiru Kaioh, Rei sighed. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes, acting like it was a great burden to tell her friend this. "Michiru Kaioh; genius violinist, master painter. Has had more sold out concerts than you've had birthdays. She's practically world-famous, Haruka."

Now it was Haruka's turn to roll her eyes. "I don't date people just because of that, Rei."

"I'm not saying you have to ask her out. It's just, well, wouldn't it be nice if the most charming person in the school paid attention to you? Besides, she doesn't have any friends."

At this, the track runner's eyebrows shot up, in danger of disappearing into her sandy-blonde bangs. "No friends? I thought she was both good-looking and extremely talented. That kind of person doesn't usually sit alone at lunch."

"All she has is fans, Haruka." Ami said, pausing in her mad typing for a moment. Haruka wondered what it would be like to be surrounded by people that didn't like you for you, just for your looks or money. It was not an encouraging thought and she quickly shook it. Depression never stuck to the blonde for long; in a minute she was cheerful again. Rei was nodding as if the blue-haired girl had revealed a great truth. She began to twirl a strand of black hair around her finger, scrutinizing it like a policeman would a prisoner.

"Maybe you could just buy her something."

"Baka. What makes you think I'd know what to get her?"

"You're the baka here; all the knowledge we given you about her tastes and you still don't know?"

"We're two completely different people!"

"Well then, what do _you_ like to do?" Ami asked from behind her computer screen, her voice breaking through the argument with hard-won expertise.

"Running track, car racing...um...more track..."

Rei gave a sigh and threw up her hands in exasperation. Ami adjusted her glasses and continued to type away, one ear still cocked to the conversation but otherwise totally out of it. Haruka ran a hand through short, sandy-blonde locks thoughtfully, looking at the back of Ami's laptop as if it would provide an answer.

She sighed and tried to think of things that _she_ would like to get as a welcoming present. Somehow, the blonde didn't think that a pair of new track shorts would make a very good impression. The same thing would also probably apply to engine parts and motor oil. Staring at the ceiling, Haruka narrowed her eyes in frustration. Wasn't there any similiarites between them that could make possible friendship easier?

Rei and Ami were right; it was good to have friends. If the rumors were true that this new girl didn't have any, then Haruka wouldn't mind being nice. At least, for a little while. Decided, the blonde stood up and punched the air with her fist.

"All right, after school we shop for the new girl!"

"We?"

"Fine, _I_ shall shop for the new girl!"

Rei just rolled her eyes and went back to cleaning her nails.

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The rest of the day seemed to fly by in a blur. Haruka felt herself overcome by feelings of excitement, anxiety, worry, and more anxiety. She wanted a chance to impress the mysterious newcomer, true enough, but there was dread prickling in the pit of her stomach as well. What if she picked the wrong gift? What if this Kaioh girl didn't turn up at school tomorrow? There were a million things that could go wrong, and the blonde was spared from worrying over them any longer when the last bell finally rang.

Whispering a delighted thank-you to whatever gods that were listening, Haruka shot from her desk like a runaway bullet. Bumping the male students out of her way with her elbow and muttering hurried apologies to the equally affronted girls, the blonde broke free of the crowd and bolted down the hall. Taking the stairs four at once, Haruka reached her locker in record time. Her fingers were a blur as they turned the dial once, twice, three times. As soon as the lock had popped open it was shut again after a few seconds. Haruka ran off, her books jammed into her backpack.

Skidding out into the fresh air of the courtyard, she made a beeline for a silver car parked on the curb.

After fumbling to unlock it with her keys, Haruka dumped her backpack on the passenger's seat. Shutting the door, she rammed her keys into the ignition slot and turned them. The engine roared to life under the hood, and Haruka had to smile. She loved her Ferrari. It was fast, but also safe. Badass, but also dignified and elegant.

The envious glares and admiring looks she got from the loitering students as she cruised by wasn't half-bad either. Feeling especially daring, Haruka hit the gas just a gaggle of cheerleaders had finished crossing the street. As the car zoomed by, the sudden wind caused the identical red miniskirts to flip up, exposing skin better left unexposed.

Haruka laughed so hard she nearly drove off the road. She almost did anyway, and had to work the steering wheel furiously to avoid a lampost. The neighbor's trashcans were not so lucky. A last look in the rearview mirror kept her snickering the entire way to the mall. She kept giggling even as she locked the Ferrari behind her and stepped past the glass sliding doors.

Calming down, Haruka's blue-grey eyes scanned the shopping center. It suddenly occured to her that she had no idea what would make a good present. Rubbing her arms, the blonde wished that she hadn't been so absentminded to have left her varsity jacket in the car. The short sleeved black shirt underneath did nothing to protect her from the mall's sub-arctic temperature.

Haruka attempted to ignore the goosebumps popping up all over her body and headed straight for the escalators. Perhaps with some luck, she could just walk around until she found a store that had what she wanted. Even though Haruka had no real idea of what she wanted in the first place, surely the mall would have it in stock. (Such was the naive belief all novice shoppers had, and such was their eventual downfall.) The shopping center wasn't that big, so of course it wouldn't take more than twenty minutes to traverse. Twelve thousand quick and painless seconds, tops.

Haruka eventually learned that this was a very stupid idea to have, and that she should rid herself of it immediately if she wanted to ever survive shopping again.

Two hours. _Two hours_ of nothing but wandering around aimlessly and freezing her ass off. The mall was actually a lot larger than she had thought to be possible. Her legs ached horribly from the endless walking, which was something considering her endurance as a track runner. Every window display she saw looked like the one she had seen five minutes ago, so identical the blonde couldn't tell them apart even if her life depended on it.

Also, it seemed that no matter how hard she tried Haruka couldn't remember the name of any store she passed. Lost, cold, and tired, the track star felt herself getting really ticked off to boot. If any salesperson had tried to talk to her about if she was happy with her local service provider right then, he or she just might have found themselves minus a couple of important body parts. Like their arms.

Throwing caution to the wind, Haruka closed her eyes and spun around twice. She promised herself that, whatever the store she had randomly picked out contained, she would go inside and buy something. Desperate, maybe, but Haruka was running dangerously short on both stamina and patience. When she had stopped, the blonde pointed in a random direction. She opened her eyes and sighed at what she chosen.

A toy store. Joyful.


	2. Pressure

Look everyone! It's an update! Sorry for the extreme lateness on my part, but I was at the Oni-con all this weekend with no Internet access, hence the lack of new chapters. Now I'm back on track and have gotten the next two chapters somewhat planned out. _Next update: Friday morning._

**Disclaimer still stands.  
**----------------------------------------------------

First period. History. It was almost time for the bell to ring, and the minutes had already slowed down to a crawl.

Haruka sighed and watched the clock. Her plan would take precision, timing, and a little bit of flirting. By the time the bell had rung, the blonde would have disappeared into the mingling crowd of students. Meet the target, drop off gift, and flee. It was foolproof! Slipping a hand under her desk, the blonde felt the edge of the secret parcel bump against her wandering fingers and smiled. The gift she had chosen felt right somehow. But, even if in some catastrophic, fanfiction-esque twist of Fate it turned out not to be, it was so cute no girl could resist.

The clock struck the quarter hour with only five minutes left in class. Haruka's hand shot up into the air. She coughed loudly. Her teacher, an impressionable young man often fooled by what was written in the tabloids, turned around from writing a paragraph concerning Alexander the Great's supposed illegitimate love-child on the blackboard. He fixated the blonde with watery blue eyes, chalk still clenched in one hand. "Yes, Tenoh?"

Haruka straightened up, letting her words drip with politeness and flattery. "Mr. Flam, may I use the restroom?" This teacher was a stickler for grammar. She remembered that. Slowly, Haruka brought the gift from under her desk and into her lap, the stealthy manner in which she did so hiding her actions from the teacher and her surrounding classmates. Noticing that Mr. Flam was looking like he was about to refuse, she batted her eyelids._ I'm way too shameless for my own good._ Pausing, he cast a quick look at the clock and nodded.

"All right then. Don't dawdle."

The track star waited until his back was to her again, then grabbed the present and bolted. Once outside, Haruka rolled her eyes at how absurdly simple that had been. Checking her watch, she upped her pace to a light jog and headed in the direction of Mrs. Halewiezer's art class. Getting the new girl's schedule---this Michiru Kaioh---out of Rei was easy. She simply bugged her into threatening Usagi for it. That blonde, although known for being ditz, had a remarkable talent for wheedling 'private information' out of Mamoru, the part-time janitor who seemed to know everything about everybody. (He probably did, too.) Blue-grey eyes scanned the numbers above the doors as she passed. 401...402...ah, 403.

Taking another quick glance at her watch, the blonde leaned against the wall and attempted to look nonchalant . She began to go over her plan in her head; a smile, a few charming words, followed by presenting the gift with a flourish...Her thoughts were interrupted by the loud clamoring of the bell, signaling the end of first period. Haruka watched as a flood of students (Why were they all so short?) poured from the classrooms and stampeded down the suddenly alive hall. Blinking in boredom, the track runner almost missed her target exiting the room, her mop of unusual sea-green hair sticking out amid the commonplace black, brown, and blond.

Cursing in surprise, Haruka pushed herself off the wall she had been resting against and set off after the girl. After accidentaly elbowing an unlucky sixth grader in the face, Haruka managed to tap the dainty shoulder in front of her. Michiru whirled around, her aquamarine eyes showing curiosity, but also caution. It made the blonde a little sad. How many times a day did she have random men come up behind her to strike up conversation? _Well, she **is** a rather well-known violinist and painter, Haruka. She probably gets flirted with all the time. Oh, and you're not a guy, remember?_

Male or otherwise, Haruka knew one thing: the photo Rei had shown her did absolutely no justice. Michiru Kaioh was perfection in human skin. Pale, exquisite skin that wrapped around a body so lithe and supple that even the drab violet vest and checkered green skirt that was the girl's uniform could only serve to enhance her almost etheral beauty. Haruka felt her mouth run dry at the sight of Michiru's slender, talented hands and flawless legs. In the back of her mind, the blonde compared the girl's eyes to emeralds, and found the pricless gems to be not nearly as stunning.

Despite her unexpected shock and attraction, Haruka forced her brain back into action. She fiddled with the present's ribbon behind her back in an attempt to buy some time. At an expectant arched eyebrow from Michiru, she plunged on in the reckless 'cock 'o the walk' manner she was best known for. "Hello, I'm Haruka. Haruka Tenoh. I heard that you had just transferred here, and thought that it would make a nice gesture to get you a little something. Good impressions are everything, as they say." With just the right mixture of charm and drama, Haruka held out the mysterious package. "But who are 'they' anyway?"

Curious, Michiru reached out to take the gift, but Haruka, in a burst of daring and insanity, swiftly yanked it out of her reach. The violinist pouted and made a mock attempt to jump for it. There was no hope in retrieving the gift, as Haruka was a good few inches taller than her and she also had rather lanky arms. Haruka grinned as she waggled one finger at Michiru. "Oh no you don't. You only get what's inside the box if you'll come have dinner with me tonight." Noticing the other girl's blank expression, Haruka continued. "Three other girls are coming with, so you won't have to worry about being alone with someone like myself."

To be honest, the blonde had no idea what was happening to her. The plan was originally just to give Michiru the present, say a few charming words, and then leave. Instead, Haruka was asking her out. She was making the first move. And she didn't even know her that well! The words were just tumbling out of her mouth before she could stop them. A lame excuse, but Haruka knew that this was the best chance she'd get. Ever since she saw that perfect face, all of her sanity seemed to have committed suicide. When the violinist didn't answer, Haruka tensed. Rejection. _God, why am I this shameless? I really need to stop being so shameless._

Michiru raised an eyebrow and smiled. The blonde relaxed a little bit. "This rather handsome girl is blackmailing me with a mysterious gift into going to dinner with her and her friends. Is she _gay_ or something?" The shorter girl asked her sketchbook in a teasing tone of voice.

Haruka just grinned and waved her pointer fingers. "A lesbian, butch, dyke, you can call it what you like." _One day I'm going to die because of this, and that'll be the end of me._ A few students stared at the blonde as they passed, more surprised by the fact that someone was singing songs from 'The First Nudie Musical' in the hallowed halls of learning than the actual sexuality of the student saying it. Many more either didn't care, or got the song stuck in their head and found themselves humming it under their breath for the rest of the day. Oh yes, Haruka was evil.

Michiru winked at the taller girl. "I bet that's why they call you Mike."

"Not Jane nor Susan or Penelope!"

Michiru laughed at that. Brushing her sea-green locks behind her shoulder, she sent Haruka a look that made the blonde weak in the knees and then wonder why it had that particular effect. "All right then. This isn't the usual for me, but seeing as my schedule's totally free for tonight, I accept." Haruka nodded, almost incapable of containing her glee. Michiru shifted her grip on the violin case she held in her other hand, her sketchbook compressed under her arm, and the action seemed to jog her memory. "Well, I _do_ have practice after school in the auditorium, but it lets out at seven...thirty...ish."

"I'll pick you up after that, then."

"Okay then. Good bye."

"Later."

Watching the other girl disappear into the loud and jostling crowd, Haruka realized that she had left all of her school supplies back at History. The bell rang for second period, and the blonde, cursing, raced to retrieve her stuff.

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"You did WHAT?"

Haruka grinned sheepishly and shrugged her shoulders. Rei smacked herself in the forehead. Ami halted her typing for a moment and looked at the track-star with curiousity. It was Gym, third period, and the trio had decided that it was a good time to skip. Well, only Rei was technically cutting; Ami sometimes suffered from weak bronchial tubes and after collapsing one afternoon while running laps, both Ami and the school had agreed that it would be okay for her to cut Gym. Haruka was way too important to Mugen Gakuen's chances of a track championship to get yelled at for skipping Gym, a subject she excelled in anyway.

On a whim, the three girls had decided to spend the "free" period in a convienently empty classroom. Also on a whim, Rei had decided to do what no other coach had dared to and was yelling her head off at Haruka. The blonde held up her hands as if to protect herself from the miko's wrath. A few seconds later, she had to duck to avoid the stapler thrown at her head. Sensing danger, Ami saved the file she was working on and left the room for fear of her life.

"I can't have dinner with your little crush. My schedule is full enough as it is!"

"Aw, c'mon! I'd probably break something if it was just me and her! And hey, she is _so_ not my crush..."

Rei crossed her arms and glared at Haruka, purple eyes flashing angrily. Turning away with a huff, the black-haired girl whipped out her cell phone and prepared to dial a number. Most students were smart enough to have their phones set to the vibration setting in case of a call. Those who didn't found themselves with a detention and fifteen dollar fine, as well as minus one cell phone. There had been many teary farewells at the beginning of the year as phones had ended up in a shoebox under the principal's desk...

Getting an idea, Haruka dashed past Rei just as she had begun to speak into the mouthpiece.

"Hello, Minako? Hi, I just wanted to know..."

"if you could have dinner with Haruka, Usagi-chan, me, and the new girl tonight!" Haruka finished, instantly rearranging her pitch to perfectly match her friend's. She grinned as she pressed the newly-acquired cell phone against her ear to hear Minako's response; she had way too much experience at this for her own good. One hand keeping the furious Hino at bay, the taller girl continued speaking. "Where? Oh, I think that new Fuchika's that opened up on Southside is an excellent place." Haruka pushed her friend farther away, raising her voice slightly to drown out Rei's protests. " Do me a favor and tell Usagi-chan about it. Thank you. See ya at eight. Bye bye." Shutting the flip-top cell with a snap, Haruka turned to grin at Rei.

"And I'll see _you_ after school. We've got dinner reservations to arrange!"

" Ugh, fine. I just hope I don't have to--wait, where are you going with my cell phone?"

"I'm taking it with me, duh. Think of it as..._collateral_ for tonight."

"I'd rather call it blackmail!"

Haruka just stuck the phone in her pocket and grinned as she left the fuming Rei behind.


	3. Remedy

Seeing as it's a bit late to edit the first and second chapters, I'll be putting this here: 

This story shall contain not so much homophobia as excessive jealousy. My reason this being that, while it occurs far too often in real life, I'm trying to think outside the box a little bit. That's not saying that I find stories with this implication in them uninteresting; quite the contrary, actually. My high school has been very open-minded when it comes to these matters and I suppose I'm trying to replicate it. So, yes, there will be a few mean people in here, because the world sadly isn't all butterflies and sunshine, but Haruka and Michiru's relationship will remain nearly completely free of such heartache. However, there will be several quirks to take its place. Watch out; there's some iceburgs ahead.

**Disclaimer still stands.**

* * *

Time: 7:45 

Location: Haruka's most awesome car.

"So, do you need me to drive you home afterwards?"

"No thank you. I live pretty close by; I can grab a bus or something."

Haruka raised one eyebrow as she turned onto another street. The evening sun reflected off the Ferrari's smooth silver paint and almost made it look like it was glowing. There was a slight wind tonight; Haruka secretly prayed that it wouldn't deposit any leaves onto the hood of her car. It was the first car she had bought with her own money, money she had earned from working her ass off racing against bigger and tougher opponents. Guys who just couldn't deal with losing to a girl and had no scruples about trying to bump off their female competitor. Haruka sighed as her right arm tingled. There was going to be rain tonight.

Cruising to a stop in the resturant's parking lot, the blonde shifted drive into neutral and turned the keys in the ignition slot. The engine purred as it quietly shut down. Opening her door, Haruka glanced at her watch. "Hey, we're five minutes early! Wanna get a table inside before they're all gone?" Michiru nodded. She turned to open her own door, but Haruka was already there, offering the other girl a hand. The violinist smiled and took it, letting the blonde pull her gently out of the car and shut the door behind her. Haruka let go immediately, but before she could even start towards the resturant's double doors Michiru had hooked one arm around the blonde's. At Haruka's questioning look, Michiru giggled.

"If you're going to be such a gentleman tonight, at least let me act like a lady."

"You're already a lady."

The sea goddess smiled and shook her head, as if not believing Haruka. When they reached the door, the track star broke away to hold the door open for Michiru, just as she had done seconds before with the Ferrari. Michiru's eyes sparkled as she turned to look at her. "So charming." Haruka grinned and was about to follow after her when an elderly couple approached. She held the door open for them too. Accepting their murmured thanks, the blonde entered the restaurant and looked around for her date. Er, for her acquaintance.

Normally this would have been impossible, for the crowd of civilians shuffling around the establishment like drugged ducks looking for a place to sit obscured the average's person's point of view. But Haruka, nearly 6 feet tall, was not normal. (In preschool she had been known as the 'Giraffe Girl', and then subsequently as 'The girl who hits really hard') So the quick and orderly way in which she managed to spot Michiru a few feet away was not exactly surprising.

The Kaioh girl had taken up seating in a booth where the other girls had already gathered. Michiru was chatting politely about something or other to Rei, who sat near the window. Across from them Usagi and Minako were pinching themselves to see if this was a dream, for they had no idea how on Earth their friend could have managed to pick up someone so pretty. That in mind, the blonde duo began to wonder if Michiru was an alien.

Haruka saw them, all right. But getting to them was another matter. After ten minutes of wading through the hordes of indecisive civilians, the blonde finally collapsed onto her seat beside Minako. Restaurant's should not be like this. As if sensing her confusion, Minako turned to the sandy-blonde. "This is a very popular new restaurant, Haruka." Haruka raised one eyebrow. "I kinda guessed that." She said it with so much sarcasm she was mildly surprised that Rei's friend hadn't drowned in it yet. Minako was about to reply scathingly when they were interrupted by a stout, well rounded man. He was the waiter.

"Hello, I am Mr. Woodcock. I will be your waiter for tonight."

Told you.

Everyone placed their order without skipping a beat except for Usagi, who had suddenly been overcome with a coughing fit. _His last name means tree rooster?_ She thought as she finally told him what she wanted. _Poor man._ "Things can only get better, mister." The waiter raised one eyebrow at the solemn-looking blonde, nodded heisitantly, and hurried away from the table. Why did his shift have to get all the crazies?

Time was a fickle thing, Haruka learned. One minute the five of them were munching contently through their meals (The food was fantastic, by the way.), the next they had just finished dessert and were engaging in some light banter. Haruka gulped; her time had come. Waiting until she could look Michiru in the eye, the blonde cleared her throat. "Well, I suppose now is the time to give you what I've promised." The Kaioh girl looked blank for a minute, then nodded as if remembering something. With much tension and nervousness on her part, Haruka placed the box in front of Michiru. Under the table, Haruka felt someone kick her shin. That, and Rei's annoyed expression quite plainly asked; _Where the hell is my cell phone?_

Haruka just smiled and kicked Rei's shin with much more force than necessary to get attention. Her response read: _Be patient, dammit._

Taking care not to ruin the teal ribbon or the wrapping (decorated with ocean waves, oddly enough), Michiru began to slowly open the gift. When the box's second skin had been neatly folded and put away inside the purse sitting on the seat beside her, the sea-green haired girl began working on the tape that bound the cardboard flaps closed. All the other girls were watching her intently, marvelling at how one could take apart a present with such lesiure. Except for Usagi, who had started staring off into space, and Haruka, who had found the wallpaper to become suddenly fascinating.

For all of the time it took to actually open the present, the actual unveiling of its contents took less than a minute. Before Haruka could say a word, Michiru was lifting a large stuffed panda out of the box. Beside her, the blonde's ears were suddenly assaulted by Minako's excited squealing. Usagi, jolted back into awareness by the loud noise, saw the panda and started saying "Kawaii!!" over and over again. Rei didn't say a word, but you could tell that she wanted to attack Michiru's gift with hugs. The desire shone madly in her violet eyes.

"Adorable. How did you know?"

"Uh, I didn't."

Michiru giggled and gave the plush a loving hug. Haruka suddenly felt unexplainably jealous. The panda's large glass eyes stared at her from across the table, the little stitch of black cloth that served as its mouth seeming to curve upwards in a derisive smirk. The blonde glowered at the stuffed animal as the other girl played with the synthetic-yet-fluffy fur. She winced as the panda received a chaste kiss upon the nose. _Damn panda. I was the one that spent $14.95 on your furry ass. That's not including tax, you little..._

Her thoughts interrupted by the feeling of someone's eyes upon her, Haruka halted her death glare on the plush and looked up. Michiru smiled, resting her chin on the panda's head. The blonde watched in fascination as the other girl's breath ruffled each individual strand of artifical hair.

"You're a bit presumptuous, aren't you?"

Rei snickered behind her hand at the stunned Haruka, looking for all the world like a deer in the headlights.

"Aww, she's seen right through you_ Haru-chan_!"

At this Haruka's ears reddened, a sure sign of danger. There was no way she wanted this beautiful new girl to get stuck on calling her by something as stupid and childish as 'Haru-chan'! Just as the blonde was about to rip the big, shiny ribbon from the mess of obsidian hair and ram it down its owners throat, Michiru spoke. "Haru-chan, mmm? Is that what you call her?" Her aquamarine eyes were twinkling with quiet mirth, a soft smile tugging at the corners of undoubtedly sweet lips. Haruka bowed her head and turned away, embarrassed. The whole point of this dinner was to impress this etheral beauty. Not become the object of her laughter!

"May I call you Ruka-chan?"

The blonde snapped her attention back instantly, so fast that Minako swore she heard something crack. As the boy-crazy blonde looked around in confusion, Haruka found her teal eyes drowning in friendly blue. The undistinguishable look in those pupils both confused and excited her. Haruka found herself stuttering, something totally unexpected. She had looked plenty of pretty girls in the eye before and she had never lost her cool then. Granted, none of the previously mentioned females had ever been this drop-dead attractive, but still...

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"N-no. It's fine. You can...call me that if you want."

_If you want..._

A waiter swooped in with the check, and Minako had to punch Usagi to keep the greedy blonde from ordering more ice cream. Michiru began to take out her wallet, but Haruka placed a hand over the other girl's own and shook her head. "Nuh-uh. This one's on me." The violinist blinked and nodded, taking her hand back and clasping her purse shut. After the blonde had proceeded to pay, Usagi started to yawn. She was joined in by Rei and Minako. Only with the barest of success was Haruka able to keep her own inside. Smiling, Michiru stood up.

"It has been a very pleasant evening, but I'm afraid I must take this as my cue to go."

Michiru nodded to each member of the group as she picked up her purse. "Usagi-chan, Rei, Minako, Haruka, thank you so much for the wonderful time. I hope to run into you again." Each girl nodded in turn and waved goodbye as the Kaioh girl walked away, then looked in bafflement at Haruka. The blonde had somehow gone from entranced to very, very annoyed. She growled at the doors that had allowed the sea-green haired girl exit with unhidden malice, crumpling a napkin in her hand.

"She...she one-upped me! Me! Haruka Tenoh, the biggest and most popular flirt on campus!" Rei mumbled something about watching one's ego and Usagi tried to ask Minako if being said flirt could be a help in her 'investigations' (i.e. charming everything out of poor Mamoru), but both were lost in the background for Haruka. No one made a fool out of her. The green-haired goddess would pay dearly. The blonde made a vow that she would, from this day forward, both ignore Michiru and make her excessively jealous!

(On some level of her conscious mind, Haruka wondered why she was having these sudden moodswings. PMS, maybe? How troublesome.)

A waiter coughed. "That is very nice, ma'am, but could you please get off the table?"

Ignoring him, Haruka raced out of the restaurant. She needed to get home to do homework. To relax. To formulate a plan of revenge that she could execute in school by tomorrow! However, it was darker than she had expected and Haruka was having trouble finding the silver Ferrari she had driven. Glancing around for her precious car, the blonde forget to look straight ahead and ran right into the vehicle. She yelped as she slammed her knee. Hard. Against. The_ fender_. Haruka jumped up and down on one foot, blinking back tears of pain. "Ow ow ow ow...damn, this really hurts! Ow ow ow! OUCH!"

As she hopped around on one foot holding knee and trying to wish the pain away, her eyes caught a figure standing in the moonlight. By the way it caught in long, familiar aquamarine tresses confirmed that it was the Kaioh girl. Haruka swore that the other girl's eyes were shining. She wondered what Michiru was thinking. As the entrancing violinist began to approach her, Haruka suddenly asked herself why her knee hurt, and why she got the impression that this lovely person was someone she was supposed to have a grudge against.

"Your tie is crooked."

Blinking, Haruka looked down. The black felt tie was indeed in disarry; probably the result of her endless fiddling with it. Although she would never say so, the blonde had been exceedingly nervous throughout dinner. She had relaxed somewhat when she saw how genuinely pleased Michiru had been with her gift, but a little anxiety had remained. "So it is." Haruka noted. She jumped a little when slender, gloved fingers began to rearrange the tie, their owner coming almost dangerously close. Her vision was suddenly claimed by sparkling aqua eyes.

"Let me."

Haruka swallowed and nodded, unable to look away. Michiru leaned closer with each passing second, until their noses were almost touching. Taking a deep breath, the blonde closed her eyes. She could feel hot breath against her cheek. It was so _weird_; she had never felt like this before. But then, a lot of out of the ordinary things had been happening lately. Haruka waited for a few seconds and then, deciding that the other girl was just shy, pushed forward. However, instead of the warm, sweet lips she had been expecting to meet, something cold pressed against her eager mouth instead.

Eyes flying open, the blonde stared in surprise into the shiny glass ones of the stuffed panda. And instead of the intriguing sea goddess, she was kissing the panda's plastic nose. Michiru let out a soft laugh as Haruka pulled away so quickly she almost fell over.

"There's a little kiss from me to you."

Her face flushed, Haruka smiled and tried to fight off the embarrassment. She failed horribly. Her face was still frozen in that stupid grin as Michiru bid farewell and, with a cryptic verbal promise of seeing her tomorrow, walked away into the darkness. The panda remained cuddled against her side, it's white and black fur eerie in the moonlight. As soon as the violinist was out of sight, Haruka cussed herself out something awful at how she had acted. Clambering into the car and revving its engine, the blonde prepared to head back to her apartment. She didn't know what could possibly happen in the morning. Her knee throbbed painfully all the way home.

Haruka found herself not caring; the image of Michiru framed against the moonlight was too fresh in her mind.

* * *

Yeah, the waiter's name was Mr. Woodcock. That was the name of one of my teachers. Why I put it in here, I'll never know. Perhaps it was only for a cheap laugh, maybe I just wasn't thinking. 


	4. Ambience

I _think_ I've figured out a plan of updating. I think I'll try updating Tuesday nights and Friday mornings for awhile, with occasional Wednesday and Sunday chapters as well. This _should_ give me enough time to write a well-written chapter.

** Disclaimer still stands.**

* * *

Kaioh residence. Nine-thirty PM. 

Michiru sat on her queen-sized bed and pressed her face against the window. The glass was cold, her breath fogging the panes. She pouted at the rain pouring down outside. That was silly, as she loved the rain. Its powerful, almost overwhelming beauty reminded her of the ocean she had never had a chance to see. The rain formed a sort of connection with her, and also served as a somewhat calming force over the usually quiet painter. So why, exactly, was she acting this way? Thunder boomed outside. Lightning followed, flashing majestically against the darkened sky. The Kaioh girl didn't bat an eye. Michiru was not exactly known for being silly.

Sighing, she pulled away from the window and looked down at the panda in her arms. It truly was adorable beyond belief, but something bothered her. It had been nagging at the corner of her mind all the way home from the restaurant. Did she like it because _she_ liked it, or just because Haruka had gotten it for her? Michiru closed her eyes in annoyance at her confusing thoughts as she gave the plush a fierce hug. It was soft and cuddly, warm from being held against her body for so long. The sea green-haired girl buried her face in the silky fabric. It really was a thoughtful gift. Inhaling, she thought she could smell peaches. _Haruka?_ The name floated dreamily into her consciousness, unbidden. Michiru blinked. Sniffing stuffed toys. _What the hell is wrong with you, Michiru Kaioh?_ She thought, immediately stopping what she was doing. Still, the thick scent of peaches danced around her mind, conjuring up the most beautiful, alluring...and ultimately, totally impossible fantasies.

As if on cue, the temperature seemed to drop.

It was weird; she usually didn't mind the cold. Only on the most frigid days of the year did she ever don anything heavier than a jacket. Now she was _shivering_, real-life goosebumps prickling all over her skin. Michiru wished that she had something to warm her up better than the icy blankets she sat cross-legged on. Or better yet, someone. Her pale cheeks flushed red, and she was suddenly thankful that no one was around to witness her embarrassment. Michiru glanced back at her gift as if seeking an answer somewhere in the empty glass orbs. With a dramatic sigh, she lifted him into the air, framing him against the moonlit window.

"Oh, Mister Panda, whatever shall I do?"

The toy just sat there, staring off into space with its glass eyes. They shined softly in the light from Michiru's aquarium as she rested him in her lap once more. The violinist sent a mock-glare at the wordless panda. Playfully, she tapped him on his furry little head like a teacher scolding a particularly troublesome student. "You're so evil to me. The world just gotten a lot more confusing, my feelings are rebelling on me, and I think I'm going crazy, and yet you can't still can't say anything? Nothing at all? Are you just going to sit there and stare at me with those big ol' eyes without offering even one word of advice?"

Complete and utter silence.

"Fine. _Be_ that way."

Michiru rolled her eyes and smiled at herself. She really was, in all honesty, a very silly person. Her grin quickly died on her face when her aquamarine eyes caught a glimpse of the digital clock on her bedside table. Michiru couldn't help sighing regretfully as her slender body eased under the cold sheets. She was perfectly sick of this loneliness. Michiru decided that she would stick around Haruka and see if anything panned out. It would be so wonderful if it did. Letting an especially soft smile grace her lips, the violinist drifted off to doze on her pillow, hugging the panda to her chest.

_Ruka...oh, Ruka...will you be mine?_

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It was only ten o' clock, but Haruka was already bored out of her mind. There seemed to be nothing to do at all. On a _Friday night_, no less! She had driven around on her favorite red motorcycle until her ass was too sore to even think about continuing and still being able to walk tomorrow, she had played DDR at the arcade and had made several opponents cry with defeat, and she must have done her weekend homework about three times already. Hell, the blonde had even resorted to laying on her back in the park and staring at the sky, trying to think about life and destiny and all of that crap.

The air was cool and sweet, heavy with the scent of ever-ripening flowers. It was too beautiful a night to be spending alone. No, on these kinds of nights, going solo was not fun at all. The tall girl wished that Michiru could be here, at her side. Luckily for her, Haruka had bothered to check her jacket pocket.

Somewhere during the course of dinner, a slip of paper with Michiru's number on it had somehow gotten into her pocket. Very mysterious. Haruka suspected that it had something (if not everything) to do with Minako; that girl had a thing for 'helping' along relationships. The sandy-blonde smiled as her fingers moved to press the buttons on Rei's still confiscated cell phone. She made a note to herself to do something nice for the spaztic boy-chaser sometime soon. Finished with dialing the numbers that glowed hotly against the surrounding night, Haruka pressed the phone against her ear. As the dial-tone buzzed incessantly, the track star wondered if Michiru was asleep. But that was silly; who could possibly be asleep at ten fifteen on a Friday night, anyway?

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The phone rang. Loudly. Disturbed from her sleep, Michiru nearly fell out of bed. As she tried to get some sense of her surroundings, the covers soon tangled around her legs. With a yelp of surprise, the Kaioh girl did hit the floor, with a rather loud thud. Grumbling more from her wounded ego than the pain in her side, Michiru grabbed the phone from off its cradle. "What the FUCK is it now?" She demanded, her voice dark and ominious. Profanity was major sign when the sea goddess was angry, and whoever it was on the other line was ceratinly about to feel her wrath. Make no buts about it. Michiru was getting ready to kick some serious ass. (What that a pun just now?) From the other end came a familiar voice, sounding hurt and confused.

"Michiru...?"

The violinist's rage instantly vanished, replaced with an unconcerting mixture of happiness and guilt.

"Ruka! Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to snap at you!"

"It's alright. You just...scared me for a minute there. I thought I had done something to make you mad at me." came Haruka's reply, sounding much more like the happy and cheerful person she really was. Michiru breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't done any serious damage with her foolish outburst. In her head, she beat herself up for acting like such a jerk. She knew, better than anybody, that being rude did not earn you love. More often than enough, it got you a swift slap to the face. Michiru felt like she deserved one of those right now.

"No, you didn't. Well, I was a little annoyed that someone woke me up, but it's not important."

Haruka's voice was apologetic, almost sorrowfully so, and the Kaioh girl found herself trusting the blonde girl's sincerity. She had no reason not to, after all.

"I'm sorry, Michi. I had no idea that you were sleeping. Otherwise, I never would have called." From the other end, Haruka suddenly blinked in surprise. _Michi?_ Where the hell had that come from? She sighed and leaned against a tree. Infatuation must be making her even crazier than normal. Her motorcyle stood nearby, its kickstand resting contently on the grass. Moonlight reflected off the scarlet paint. Thousands of cheesy romance songs flitted through her mind; only with the mightiest effort did Haruka manage to ignore them all.

"Please don't worry about it, Ruka." The blonde couldn't help but grin at the cute nickname. A much better choice than 'Haru-chan', in her mind. "Although I do have a question; why, exactly, did you call me so late at night?"

"Michi, it's barely ten twenty right now."

"So?"

From the other end of the line came a half-suppressed snort of both amusement, disbelief, and exasperation. Despite it, Haruka's next words were almost deceptively calm. Unseen to Michiru, however, the blonde winced as she spoke.

"I was going to ask if you would like to take a ride on my motorcycle." The mere thought of riding the thing for any extended period of time made Haruka's poor bottom ache in rememberance of the previous few hours.

"Oh, Ruka. I'm very disappointed in you."

Haruka deflated like a popped balloon. She felt horrible. Of course Michiru wouldn't be willing to come traipsing out at night with a stranger like her. The track runner sighed, and fancied the cracking noise that was made as she stepped on a random stick to be the sound of her heart.

"That has to be the cheesiest innuendo I've ever heard in my life."

_Wait, what?_

"But I was serious! Er, I mean, I didn't mean the other meaning...argh!" Haruka protested, smacking herself in the forehead. She could hear Michiru giggling at the other end of the line. This girl really was a damn tease. A soft breeze began to blow, ruffling her sandy-blonde locks and sparking an idea deep within her often mischievous mind. It was time to see how good she was at begging.

"So...will you?"

"It's awfully late, Ruka."

"Please?" The other girl pleaded, adding extra emphasis on the syllables so that it came out as 'Puh-leeeeeease?' Good god, she sounded like a child.

"Oh, alright, you crazy blonde. I live on Fallenash Street, third house on the left. See you soon."

"YES! I mean, bye!"

Stuffing the cell phone into her pocket, Haruka made a mad dash for her parked motorcycle.

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Minutes later, Haruka screeched to a stop, tires squealing as they left a black skid mark on the pavement. Taking off the helmet she shook her head, blonde hair flying, and turned to grin at Michiru. The track star jerked a thumb at the seat behind her own. She did not, could not, tear her eyes away from the violinist. "Hop on." Haruka said, her voice almost a purr. The feeling proved mutual as well as irrseistable. Michiru, with an equally sultry smile, stalked down the porch steps. Throwing one long, slender leg over the motorcycle, she straddled the cushion seat like nothing else. After her passenger had placed her feet in the correct positions, Haruka handed her the helmet. She spoke quickly, knowing that Michiru had already opened her mouth to protest.

"You need it more than I do. Besides, I can't have you getting hurt."

Michiru just smiled and did as she was asked. (For who could argue with that selfless logic?) Once the helmet was strapped on with a click, Haruka pushed up the kickstand and revved the motorcycle's engine. The other girl quickly wrapped her arms around her driver. They sped off, roaring, into the night.

After a few minutes, Michiru was finally convinced that this was not a dream.

They were sharply turning at the corner to the right, zooming down deserted streets that suddenly didn't seem nearly as dark or scary as they had when she was alone. Michiru gazed around in amazement as her long hair danced and twirled behind her in the fierce breezes. She wrapped her arms tighter around Haruka's waist, burying her face in between the blonde's shoulderblades for protection against the wind. She felt safe; her Ruka would never let her fall off.

The motorcycle darted under the bright streetlamps and then back into the darkness at such a speed Michiru thought that the light was being controlled by a strobe. Haruka, far more used to such things, merely leaned forward and tightened her grip on the handlebars. The wind sent her blonde hair flying across her face. She willed it out of the way so that it wouldn't prevent her from seeing the turn-off. Haruka narrowed her blue-grey eyes at the small wooden marker that was coming into view. Leaning to her right, the blonde veered off the concrete roads.

In a flash they were in the forest, surrounded by green and brown. The motorcycle swerved faithfully around trees and bushes, its tires racing smoothly on the dirt. Branches snapped under the spinning wheels, stones were sent flying in all directions. With expertise, Haruka kept her vehicle upright over the rocky ground even as she drove at breakneck speed. The scenery that had been passing by in a blur was suddenly gone as the blonde gunned the motor. Michiru could not hold back a gasp as both of them went roaring off a hill. They were high in the air, the landscape of Japan seeming to stretch out before them. Stars glimmered like little diamonds laid against a black canvas. The wind howled its triumph.

They were flying.

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Hours later, Haruka finally cruised to a stop outside of Michiru's home. The duo got off, the violinist taking off her borrowed helmet and leaving it on the motorcycle's rear seat. Playing the part of a gentlemen, the blonde walked Michiru to her door. Her ass screamed in pain as she did so, but Hruka did not care. Tired as she was, the Kaioh girl turned to Haruka and smiled gratefully.

"Thanks for the great time, Ruka. I had fun."

On instinct, Michiru wrapped her arms around the taller girl. Not skipping a beat, Haruka placed one hand on the small of the Kaioh girl's back and another on her delicately thin shoulder. Feeling like she was in a dream, the blonde rested her chin on the flowing emerald tresses. They really were as soft as she had imagined. Michiru laid her head against Haruka's collarbone, hearing the steady beat of her heart. The two stayed like that for a few minutes, not knowing or caring what would happen after they had to break apart. But they had no need to worry. When the time finally came, they both were overtaken by yawns that blissfully rid the need of any awkward conversation outside of:

"Good-bye, Ruka."

And

"See you later, Michi."

With small, secretive smiles, Haruka sped away on her motorcycle while Michiru re-entered her house. It was almost four AM.


	5. Hierarchy

"Hey Michi, I have to ask you something."

Michiru smiled a tired little smile. It was Sunday afternoon. She had spent the last two nights riding around on Haruka's motorcycle and she felt exhausted. It wasn't that she regretted it. Of course not. But after nearly falling down the stairs in drop-dead weariness almost three times, Michiru couldn't help but hope that Haruka was not about to offer her another vehicle-style rendezvous. The blonde had been invited over to hang out, as they had both been bored and figured that it was better to be bored with a friend than by yourself. After everything that had conspired yesterday, neither of them could deny that the other made a really great friend who was fun to hang around with. Not that they _wanted_ to deny that in the first place. Oh no.

"Yes, Ruka?"

Haruka smiled as she sat down on the couch next to her crush. Er, friend. Anyway, it felt so wonderful to be able to just sit around with Michiru. In Michiru's living room, which was in Michiru's home. Point of the matter was, it was great and Haruka felt luckier than she deserved. And yet, after looking at the calendar in the violinist's kitchen, she also felt a little worried. Beside the oblivious blonde, the violinist started to doze off with her head on Haruka's tempting shoulder.

"Well, I happened to look at your calendar.."

After waking up with a jolt, Michiru had to laugh. She knew what Haruka was talking about. The event in question was another one of those parties she was always getting invited to; the ones for the rich and/or famous. Although she wasn't especially fond of them in general, Michiru was much too polite to turn them down. So, each time she got a phone call about an upcoming 'get-together', she was scribbling down the date and location on her trusty calendar in the kitchen. There was one later today, starting at five o' clock PM. Michiru wasn't especially feeling up to going, but she wondered what it would be like if she dragged Haruka along.

The concept amused her greatly.

"Why don't you just come to the party with me, if you're so stressed out about it?"

Haruka jumped a little, amazed that the violinist had somehow read her mind.

"How did you know I was thinking about that?"

Michiru merely waved her hands hypnotically at the blonde, keeping her tone perfectly calm and serious.

"I know everything. I am all seeing."

Haruka rolled her eyes and shook her head in disbelief. Seriously, Michiru could be sillier than Usagi sometimes. She winced as the thought crossed her mind and tried to erase it from her memory as soon as possible. Definately the wrong thing to think at the wrong time! As if to take her mind off that disturbing idea, Haruka started playing with a hole in her jeans.

"Sure, I'll go with you. What time is it now?"

"Three o' clock."

As if realizing how little time she had left, Michiru leaped to her feet and dashed for her bedroom. "I have no time to prepaaaaaare!" she yelled, sounding every bit like Usagi when she was late for school. Back on the couch, Haruka burst out laughing. A container of lip gloss came sailing though the air and smacked her upside the head.

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It was a little past five, and Haruka's Ferrari was just now cruising to a stop outside the 'club's' location. It was set on a sprawling patch of land; perfectly normal from the front, but the backyard extended for nearly seven miles. The ground was barren right now, but Haruka had been watching the weather channel and knew that a light snowfall was on its way. She was not eager to dig her beloved car out of a pile of slush. Haruka nodded to Michiru. "Wait for me at the front door, okay? I gotta go park my child someplace safe." Michiru just rolled her eyes and said that she would. As she shut the Ferrari's door behind her, the car pulled away. The violinist shook her head as Haruka drove around the house into it's backyard. Haruka could be absurd when it came to her car.

Who referred to a vehicle as their child, anyway?

However, Michiru said nothing as Haruka came running up the porch steps to join her at the front door. She merely pressed the doorbell and acted polite when the two of them were ushered inside. As soon as the door had closed behind them, Haruka somehow disappeared from view. Michiru smiled knowingly; there were a lot of people here. The blonde must have been instantly swept away. Content that Haruka would catch up with her eventually, the violinist started to wander around. She soon caught sight of one of her many acquaintances, Marta Escuazha.

"Hello, Marta."

The brown haired woman smiled as she turned around and saw Michiru. It had been two weeks since they had last seen each other and frankly, they were a little afraid of forgetting what the other looked like.

"Hey there, Michi. How's life been?"

_Michi._ The nickname was beginning to feel strange and uncomfortable when anyone other than her Ruka said it. Michiru didn't bother wondering why. To do that would be calling things to her mind's attention that she wasn't quite ready to ponder about.

"It's been...a little more unusual lately, but in a good way."

Marta raised an eyebrow as Michiru ended her sentence with a yawn that lasted a lot longer than it should have.

"Are you okay? You look kind of tired. Have you been getting enough sleep? Perhaps you need a new mattress."

"It has nothing to do with the state of my bed. My friend, Haruka Tenoh, was kind enough to give me a ride around town on her motorcycle last night. I guess I'm just a little tired."

"Did you go with her the night before last as well?"

"Yes, why?"

"Just wondering."

The Kaioh girl was about to inquire further when Haruka suddenly appeared at her side. The blonde seemed clearly unhappy to be here. She felt inferior. Actually, it was everyone else's haughty glares that were doing the job of making her feel out of place and lowly. Haruka felt like she was embarrassing Michiru in some way because she had come in a male's nice jacket and new, ironed jeans instead of the frilly disasters one might call a 'dress'. She looked perfectly clean and presentable, but the other guests certainly didn't think so. Many of the males seemed affronted at the notion that a women would vountarily wear anything other than said frilly dresses, and the women simply considered her a ruffian. Trash, in other words, not worthy enough to even mop the floor.

"Oh, hello Ruka! Marta, this is my good friend Haruka Tenoh. Ruka, this is Marta Escuazha."

Haruka brightened up immediately; just being at Mirchiru's side sometimes had the effect of guzzling a whole bottle of happy pills. She offered her hand to the other woman and smiled politely. Marta took it, just as politely. Inside her mind, however, she did not like this Haruka Tenoh. Riding motorcycles at 16 years of age, how ridiculous! Even after only setting sight on the blonde for barely thirty seconds, Marta had already made her out to be unresponsible, foolhardy, shameless young man who would most certainly_ not_ make a good companion for someone like Michiru Kaioh.. _No, wait, woman. Must think woman...must think woman..._

Meanwhile, as the two exchanged pleasantries that were not really felt by either side, Michiru began to feel funny. It seemed like the hours of missed sleep were beginning to catch up on her. She felt exhausted. Was she really as fine as she had assured Marta she was? Everying seemed to have gotten much, much brighter. Her eyes began to ache. She felt the overwhelming urge to close them, and _leave_ them closed for a long time.

"Ruka, does it seem a little too bright in here to you?"

"No, why?"

Michiru clenched her eyes shut, then opened them. It didn't work. Everything was still too bright and hazy. "I don't know, I just..."

Her voice suddenly gave out on her, like a computer that had decided to shut down for no reason. Light and sounds felt like they were getting farther away, and Michiru felt tired, oh so tired...Blackness overwhelmed her, and she finally closed her eyes, fainting dead away and falling to the floor.

"Michi? _Michiru!_ What's wrong? What happened?"

Haruka quickly knelt down to help her collapsed friend, but was rudely pushed out of the way. Regaining her balance just in time to keep from falling, she looked up with fury blazing in her blue-grey eyes. Marta glared down at her. "Just stay out of the way, Tenoh. This is your fault in the first place! If you hadn't kept her up for two nights straight with your crazy motorcycle rides, Michiru would be fine." The brunette sneered, giving Haruka one last disdainful look before turning around to see to the violinist. Haruka clenched her teeth shut to keep from blurting out in anger and reluctantly sat down on the adjacent armchair. Not to be outdone, Marta carefully laid Michiru on the couch and then pulled up a seat right beside it. Haruka waited for the torrent of insults and rude comments from her; she wasn't disappointed.

As the minutes crawled by, it seemed as if Haruka was responsible for every disaster that had occurred since humans had first discovered fire.

"Didn't you notice how exhausted-looking she's been lately? I can't believe she thinks of you as a friend."

"What kind of person drives a girl like _her_ around all night on a _motorcycle_, anyway?"

"I guess it's true that blondes are dumb."

"_This is all your fucking fault!_"

Growling, Haruka stood up, ready to punch Marta right in the jaw. She had had enough of this bitch's remarks! She felt horrible enough for what had happened; there was no need for Marta to rub it in! At just that moment, however, Michiru's eyes opened. She gazed blearily out at the blonde, the faint smile that had been on her face at first fading as she got a closer look at the angry Haruka. "Ruka? What's wrong?" Looking at Michiru and seeing the dark circles under her eyes, now so blatantly obvious she wondered how she could've ever have been so blind as to have missed them, brought Haruka to the verge of tears. Her raised fist dropped to her side as if she had lost all of the strength in her arm.

Unable to answer, Haruka looked at the floor, the ceiling, any place other than Michiru's face. As if by some horrible quirk of fate, her gaze settled on Marta. A mocking smirk graced the brunette's lips, her green eyes shining with triumph over the blonde. Haruka felt rage spark deep within her heart for the second time, flaring up as if to consume her entire soul. She was angry. She was hurt. Above all, she wanted to get away. Somewhere other than this place where she wasn't even accepted as a person with any feelings.

"I don't know, Kaioh-san. Why don't you ask your _real_ friends?"

Haruka spat out, her words icy. She couldn't even bring herself to apply the affectionate nickname she had so often used to talk to Michiru. Narrowing eyes hazy with tears at Michiru, though it hurt her to do so, she left, shoving an innocent guest out of the way so hard he almost collided with the wall. Michiru instantly rose to follow her, but Marta's hand on her sleeve stopped her. Confused, she looked back at her friend. Marta merely stared back with indifferent green eyes. "She's upset right now. It would be a good idea to let her cool off." Marta brightened up quickly as she changed subjects. "Besides, you just woke up from being passed out! Let's give you a chance to feel better before you go off chasing tempermental blondes." Michiru nodded hesitantly and let herself be pulled back down, eyes still on the door Haruka had left through.

"Yes...alright then."

Marta began talking about her latest boyfriend, or sweater, or something. Michiru wasn't really listening. Her mind was too occupied with Haruka's strange behavior. What had happened in the five minutes when she had fainted? Was it a mistake to just let her Ruka run off looking like she was about to cry instead of following her to see what was wrong? The minutes dragged on. Marta continued to prattle, not realizing that Michiru had long ago ceased to answer.

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Haruka ran down the halls, not caring who she bumped into. It wasn't fair. She thought she was going to die right there when Michiru had passed out. When she realized that the beautiful girl had been suffering from lack of sleep because of her own selfishness. Because of her idiocy. Haruka knew that it was all her fault, but did it give that other girl (Haruka used the term loosely, as she thought that 'demon' served as a much better choice of nouns.) any right to smear salt into her wounds? No! It hurt to just think about it. Haruka resolved that she was going to stop thinking for a while. And by that, she was going to get drunk.

How was she going to accomplish this? No goddamn clue.

She didn't care if she was only sixteen, two years away from legal drinking age. She didn't really bother to consider the consequences that this plan of action would undoubtably award her. She didn't even give a damn what Michiru would think if she caught her drinking. Well, so maybe she did feel a twinge of guilt at that last thing, but her resolve was at the same time hardened; Haruka was going to get so drunk off her ass that Michiru was never want to see her face again. Perhaps then and only then would she be safe from the harm that blonde was certain that she would inflict upon the violinist if she stuck around. Haruka busted down a door at random and was lucky. It was the kitchen.

Opening the refrigerator's door with such force she nearly ripped it from it's hinges, Haruka was grimly pleased to find three large bottles of wine. The labels said that they were fermented, extremely intoxicating to over ninety percent of all individuals; Haruka didn't feel like doubting their word. Popping the corks with an angry kind of excitement, the blonde downed the first bottle with almost superhuman speed. Not waiting for the alcohol to take effect, she quickly started to drink the second cask of wine. It was finished with notably less rush. Already nauseated and disoriented, Haruka figured that the last bottle would help her reach the state of forgetfulness that she yearned for. As carefully as her drunken state would allow, the track star put the two empty containers in the sink. She could've sworn that she broke one anyway, but whatever.

Haruka staggered away towards the back door, taking large gulps of wine as she did so. Vaguely thankful that she hadn't bumped into anyone who would try to stop her foolishness, Haruka turned the doorknob and pushed. Nothing. Growling in intoxicated rage, the blonde tried again. Still nothing. Finally, Haruka tried pulling the door and nearly fell off her feet as it swung open as if its hinges were greased with butter. In surprise, the drunken track star dropped her last bottle. It wasn't a huge waste seeing as Haruka had already consumed over three-fourths of its contents, but it sure ticked her off even more.

Annoyed, Haruka picked up the broken bottle by the neck. Why she did so, she didn't know now and never would later. Probably only for reason of feeling like it. Cold air assaulted her face. She sweared at the sight of snow upon the ground. It was certain to impede her getaway. Peering through that self-inflicted haze you get when you revoke your soberity, Haruka could make out her car parked under some trees. She grinned like a loon when she realized that said trees had kept most of the snow off her Ferrari.

That was the whole reason why she had parked there instead of out front like a normal person. Haruka started walking towards her vehicle, retaining just enough sense to shut the door behind her. As the blonde began moving, she almost fell over. Realizing stupidly that her balance was probably shot to shit, Haruka held her hands out in front of her to stay upright. The bottle came up too, jagged end pointing towards the sky.

Haruka started for the car.

It was only when she was already wading through the slush did Haruka figure out just how cold she really was. She tried to shiver, then stopped when her body was too numb to do even that. Her eyelids were suddenly growing heavy. What the hell? Grunting, Haruka tried to keep moving. She made it three more feet before she fell. As she did, the blonde remembered that the broken bottle she had been holding was about to stab out her eyes and automatically brought her arms in. When she hit the ground, the glass didn't tear up her face; it pierced her stomach. Haruka gasped as her weight further drove the bottle into her skin.

_Oh...my...god..._

It hurt so much, but the cold was still working its deadly magic over her. Despite the agony and the horrible pain, Haruka felt her heartbeat slow down. Blood flowed over her fingers. She could see it spreading over the snow. Staining it. Ruining its splendor. It was the last thing she saw before she passed out, bleeding, in the snow. The few leaves still left on the trees began to sway in the sudden wind.

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	6. Color

I feel horribly cliche and cheesy about this chapter, but maybe that's a good thing. As this little scenario wraps up and the two prepare for school (It _is _Sunday night, after all.), I plan to introduce another one of my favorite couples. These two little lovebirds should stir up a nice amount of drama. Haruka and Michiru do that already, but this plot needs a twist _somewhere_ in the works!

**Disclaimer still stands.**

* * *

After a look at her watch, the sea green-haired girl decided that fifteen minutes had been more than enough time for Haruka to settle down. 

"I'm sorry Marta, but I think I should go look for her now."

To her surprise, the brunette's tone quickly became one of irritation.

"Oh, please Michiru! Why bother acting like you really care about that brat? She's shameless, aggressive, stupid...you could do so much better in the way of friends, Michi. She dresses like a guy, for God's sake!" Marta laid a hand on the violinist's arm as if trying to comfort her in the face of these uncomfortable 'truths'. Michiru pulled it back quickly. She stepped away from the other girl, looking incredously at her as if she had suddenly sprouted wings and a tail. Had she been hiding her true feelings about Haruka all this time? Astoundment soon turned into stony anger as the meaning of Marta's words finally sunk in. _Yes, she has._

"I can't believe this. You call yourself my friend, but then you _dare_ to insult someone important to me? You _dare_ to call her stupid, of all things, when you yourself have such a low intellect you cannot even look past the type of clothing she wears?" When Marta didn't answer, Michiru simply glared at her in disgust. So it was true. This person was not her friend, only another fan. A narrow-minded one, at that. "You sicken me, Escuazha. Never make the mistake of thinking that you can call me 'Michi', because I certainly won't call you 'Marta'. Your first name will now forever sound like a disease in my mouth. Good day." With a huff, the violinst stormed from the room in almost exact imitation of the track star, right down to pushing people out of her way. When Michiru made it to the hall, people began to murmur and gossip in the room behind. The sea green-haired girl didn't give a damn in particular right now; she was too intent on finding Haruka and fixing this mess.

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Michiru began to run down the hallways much like Haruka had done earlier. This was all wrong. Her friends were suddenly not friends. Everything felt just so unexplainably off-kilter it almost made her feel sick. She needed help. She needed _Haruka_. The violinist's worry increased as she asked the guests if they had seen a tall blonde go by. After talking to ten people who all had no information, Michiru felt like pulling her aquamarine hair out in bunches. Sighing in exasperation, the Kaioh girl headed in a random direction. She needed to think. To clear her head. Maybe when she had, it would become easier to find Haruka.

Of their own accord, Michiru's feet led her to the back door. Blinking at the realization of where she was, the painter nodded. It made sense; Haruka could have gone outside by the back door, away from everyone else at the front, to deal with her problems. Stepping gingerly over the mysterious pieces of shattered glass, Michiru opened the door. It was _freezing_ outside. The weather report had been right on the money for once. Snow blanketed the entire landscape, gathering on bushes and alighting on the naked tree branches like clusters of fat white birds. It all looked rather beautiful in its thoughtful solitude. In fact, the effect was only ruined by the sight of a pile of clothing a little way from the house, thrown tastelessly down in the snow. Momentarily forgetting her crisis, Michiru wrinkled her nose in distaste.

_How impolite could someone be to leave their clothes on the ground like that? I hope no one is running around nude in this frigid weather. They'll catch something for sure._

Remembering that Haruka had parked her car somewhere back here, Michiru figured that she could both get rid of the fabric that had dared to shatter a perfect natural scene and check to see if the blonde was sulking in the driver's seat of her car at nearly the same time. Convinced of her good idea, the violinist began to walk away from the house. She had time to ponder her thoughts aloud as she pushed through the snow, foot by foot.

"Who would leave clothes out here?"

As she neared the mound of clothing, Michiru caught a glimpse of something that almost made her heart stop. It wasn't a pile of discarded garments after all. It was a human. Sandy blonde curls spread out against the creamy white snow, the owner hardly moving at all. Barely even breathing.

"_Haruka!_ Oh my god!"

Falling to her knees, Michiru shook the crumpled blonde desperately. The track star did not move, did not say a word, did not even open her eyes. Michiru began to cry. Haruka felt like she was made of ice. Freezing, immobile ice. That wasn't right. The blonde was always so vibrant, so energetic. So cheerful. This wasn't, couldn't be the Haruka Michiru knew. Haruka would never curl up in the harsh snow and refuse to move. The real Haruka would always turn at the sound of her voice and offer a smile that made the violinist melt. No, the defeated body lying in a heap before her was not the person that was her friend.

But it was.

The sandy blonde hair, limp and sprinkled with frost, was recognizable at a glance. Michiru knew the black jacket and jeans that hid a strong, supple, and ultimately feminine build. She had seen it barely fifteen minutes ago as the owner had stalked out the door. The violinist cried even harder as she remembered Haruka's angry and hurt expression. _Oh Ruka, why did I drag you here if all I did was make you feel out of place? If all I did was hurt you? _Blinking to stop the useless tears, Michiru finally noticed the snow. Most of it was a sparkling, almost dazzling white. But some of it was tainted. Some of it was stained.

Some of it was colored with blood.

Stifling a gasp, Michiru pulled back the flap of Haruka's jacket. A large gash bleed freely, caused by the jagged glass edges of a wine bottle still buried deeply in the tan skin. Haruka's hand was enclosed around the bottle's neck in a frozen, unmoving grip. She looked like she had been trying to commit suicide. But Michi knew that the track star was too strong to give in to a desire like that. There must have been another explanation. Michiru's eyes watered again as she realized what must have really happened; The blonde must have stumbled out here in anger, tripped, and impaled herself on the glass as she fell in the snow. The Kaioh girl knelt forward to smell Haruka's breath. It scared her how long she had to wait for it to come weakly, faintly from between the blonde's lips. Finally, the thick scent of alcohol arrived to pummel her senses and not only confirmed the probablity of her theory, but also added new evidence to it. Haruka had been drinking. Another breath came like whisps of steam in the cold air. _Heavily_ drinking, it seemed.

_The broken pieces of glass at the back door must have come from this bottle._

The reality of the situation starting to hit home, Michiru tore a length of fabric from her shirt sleeve. Slowly moving Haruka's hand away and gently--oh so gently-- extracting the jagged bottle end, she applied it as a compress for the wound. At the same time, her other hand felt for a pulse. Michiru bit her lip as her fingers found it. It was slow, but there. For how long it would keep going...she didn't know. Michiru looked around and saw Haruka's car sitting a mile away, nestled between the clusters of trees. The bare branches caught the snow, keeping it from falling on the Ferrari. Michiru allowed herself a weak smile; that was probably the only reason Haruka had even parked there. The other girl knelt down to hook one arm under Haruka's own and took a deep breath. Summoning all her strength, Michiru managed to pull the blonde to her feet. She began to take slow steps forward, letting Haruka's unconscious body lean on her. Michiru left her other hand free to be able to keep her balance as she half pulled, half carried the track star.

For all her height, Haruka was surprisingly lightweight. It made things easier on her rescuer, but not by much. Michiru panted as she trudged on. Staring at the ground, she wondered what would happen if she tripped and fell. _That would be the end of both of us._ She thought, and bit her lip. She wouldn't let that happen; Haruka didn't deserve it. Finding the strength to lift her eyes, Michiru found that she was almost there. Only a few yards away, the Ferrari waited expectantly. As if on cue, Haruka seemed to grow ten times heavier. Gasping with each step, Michiru bit her lip even harder and forced herself to keep going. Her teeth broke the skin and blood filled her mouth. The violinst ignored it. _Almost...there...must...keep going..._

Just when she was about to collapse for the second time that day, Michiru reached the Ferrari's passenger side. Fumbling the door open with one hand, the other girl laid Haruka in the seat as carefully as she could. She checked the blonde's pulse again; it was still there, and a little stronger. That was some good news, at least. She closed the door and got into the driver's seat on the other side. After making sure that Haruka was strapped in, Michiru stuck the keys in the ignition slot and revved up the engine. A bolt of nervousness struck her as the car shifted into reverse and backed up to allow space. She could drive, but she wasn't used to this car. That is to say, she had never been behind its wheel.

Needless to say, the ride to her house was a nerve-wracking one. She was deathly afraid of scratching Haruka's car, but she was also terrified of what could happen to Haruka herself if she took too long getting home. So, she drove as carefully as a bat out of hell could. Within a few minutes, the Kaioh residence loomed into sight. Michiru gave a sigh of relief. She had thought of taking the blonde to a hospital, but a hot feeling in her stomach warned her that Haruka might not have lasted that long. I'll take her in the morning. Michiru decided, nodding in approval at her choice. Parking the Ferrari right at the curb, the violinist switched the car off. After carefully getting Haruka up the porch steps and inside the house, Michiru locked the car behind her. The Ferrari beeped in response.

Slowly, Michiru managed to get Haruka up the stairs and down the hall to her room. She took a deep breath as she laid the track star on her back on the bed. There were some bandages and disinfectant in the bathroom; it would be a good idea to put them to some use. After checking Haruka's pulse again, Michiru padded over to her large bathroom and started rummaging through its drawers. A thankfully short time later, she emerged holding a plastic bottle of antibiotic...liquid...stuff...and some cloth bandages that worked on the same principals of a band-aid, only bigger. Putting some of the disinfectant onto a fresh washcloth, Michiru gently eased open Haruka's jacket and lifted up her shirt just enough to give the gash a swift cleaning. Haruka grunted in her sleep, but otherwise did nothing. Just as carefully, the violinist stuck a large wad of absorbing cloth over the wound and reinforced it with smaller, sticky bandages.

Feeling satisfied, Michiru put away her medicine tools and tucked Haruka under the covers, smiling quietly as she brushed away a lock of sandy hair. It felt like silk in her fingers. Sighing happily, Michiru leaned forward. Closer and closer, hardly aware of what she was doing. At the last minute she stopped, barely two inches away from leaving a soft kiss on the track star's lips. As if sensing Michiru's close presence, Haruka murmured slightly and the other girl pulled away quickly. She hadn't even meant for anything like this to happen, but things had just been spinning out of control lately. How long could she get away with this when her _own_ control was slipping out of her grasp so quickly? Michiru studied the handsome face for a few minutes. She decided that she didn't care anymore; all that mattered was that Haruka was okay. Finally, with the excuse that body heat was better than a blanket, the violinist gave in to her feelings once more and crawled under the sheets. Snuggling as close as she dared to, Michiru instantly fell asleep, more worn out than she had thought.

She really had fallen in love, and fallen _hard_.

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Haruka was cold. Every limb, every inch of her body felt like it had become buried in snow.

She was freezing, and she hated it. She could usually stand extreme variations in temperature. In fact, Haruka was rather proud of that and showed it off often by figure skating in shorts and a t-shirt or wearing three layers of clothing during the blazing summers. Just because she could. Being _this_ cold, however, made the blonde feel miserable as well as weak. Haruka thought she had gone into a coma for a while; she couldn't feel her body move at all. The track runner was completely numb, the blood in her veins seeming to turn into ice for all that she felt it moving.

Haruka had the mad urge to die. Anything would be better than this glacier coffin her body was locked in.

But then there was warmth. It started slowly, in little pin-points of white-hot fire at the tips of her toes. It spread even more slowly up her calfs and thighs. Streams of heat snaked over her skin in such a criss-cross fashion that would probably remind one of smoke swirling and twisting in the wind. Haruka's tanned skin began to prickle as feeling returned to her nerves. The blonde sluggishly started to come back to life, sparks of energy rousing her brain into action.

Opening her eyes, she looked around. She was in a room with dark green walls and sea-blue drapes covering the windows. The carpet was a navy color even darker than the curtains, with a rug modestly proclaiming 'Welcome'. (Personally, the thing was so tacky it made Haruka think that it existed only to cover up a particularly stubborn stain.) A small aquarium glowed fluorescently in a corner. A large angelfish swum around its confines with the air of a lord surveying his empire. His plastic castle appeared to periodically release bubbles.

To right of the bed was a door, most likely leading to a bathroom.

_Woah, wait a minute here; what bed?_

_Better question would probably be "whose bed?"._

Haruka looked down and found herself face to face with purple bedsheets that definately weren't hers. The pillow her head was laying on, the one that felt so nice and soft, didn't belong to her either. Getting a nervous feeling in her stomach, the kind madators would get just before a bullfight, the blonde slowly lifted up the covers. While the large bandage covering the gash on her stomach (it tingled painfully as she thought about it) were unknown, the clothes she was wearing thankfully were. Haruka breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she hadn't drunk as much alcohol at that stupid party as she had vaguely remembered. The blonde winced as a sharp pain flashed through her temples, attacking her brain with what felt like hot, needle-sharp spears. Okay, so maybe she did.

Newly suspicious, Haruka sniffed her clothing for the unmistakable stench of intercourse. She smelled sweat, but it was her own, and most likely only from sleeping in her clothes while under two or three thick blankets. Inhaling deeply, trying to find some faint remmants of last night's supposed activites, Haruka caught a new scent. It was sweet and exotic, reminding her of peaches. There was also a tinge of the sea in the air, although Haruka knew for a fact that the large body of water was several miles away. Suddenly, something that felt suspiciously like a warm body shifted beside her. And the racer finally learned that she was not alone.

Her heart deciding to go unaturally fast, Haruka turned her head and almost bumped noses with Michiru Kaioh. The blonde let out a surprised curse. She quickly bit down on her lip to stifle it, not wanting to wake the smaller girl so nearby. Michiru murmured something unintelligible and scooted closer. Haruka held her breath, so afraid of distubing the violinist that she almost wet herself. Michiru yawned, exposing perfect teeth, and sleepily wrapped one arm around the racer's shoulders. Unable to escape, Haruka watched the sea-green haired female carefully.

She noticed aquamarine locks falling lightly against the pale cheek and felt the insaitiable urge to brush them away. Wondering if the skin was as soft as her hair was sure to be. Michiru's lips were, although not large, full. Less than a inch away, Haruka had no trouble imagining them tasting sweet as they pressed against her own. She blinking rapidly and tried to shake the dangerous thoughts out of her mind. She may have been a big, big flirt, but Haruka knew that thinking dirty thoughts about someone you didn't know often led to even bigger trouble. Michiru pressed her lithe body against Haruka's stronger one and buried her face in the blonde's chest, and keeping her mind clean just got a whole lot harder for Haruka.

As she struggled to ignore the beautiful painter, Haruka felt her eyelids grow inexplicitly heavy. The track star growled softly. Here she was in a bed that wasn't hers, in a room she had never been in before, snuggling against a girl whom she was already harboring all sorts of secret feelings for. Now was not the time for sleeping! Despite her protests, Haruka's body only recognized the fact that it was surrounded by warmth and that it was tired. Against her will the blonde began to nod off. With a muffled curse Haruka fell asleep, burying her face in sea-green hair as she did.

It really was as silky soft as she had imagined.

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Michiru woke up reluctantly. She felt so warm and safe where she was, and was in no great hurry to leave her haven. It took her a few minutes to recognize where she was. In her bed. Yes. Which was in her room. Not in some strange hotel room with some fat man lying next to her smoking a cigarette and asking if it was good for her too. Of course not. Michiru was blissfully free of that kind of embarrassment now, and would most likely be for another decade. (Hopefully.) It took her another few minutes, however, to realize that she was not alone.

She was being held in the arms of her friend, her schoolmate, and above all secret crush, Haruka Tenoh. Rather _closely_ held in fact, like a stuffed animal perfectly suited to the task of cuddling.

_Oh...shit._

Panicking in her shock, the other girl tried to wriggle her way out of her sleeping friend's arms. But she didn't count on Haruka being so sensitive.

"Mmh...Michi..." Haruka murmured, tightening her grip on the violinist. Her eyes, still closed in sleep, clenched shut even tighter as if she was having a nightmare. "Don't leave..." No longer wanting to move away, Michiru was content to lay still and let the strong arms fully envelop her. She snuggled a little closer, watching the blonde's face intently. Haruka's expression softed; she looked peaceful again. Resting her head on Haruka's chest, the Kaioh girl listened to the soothing sound of the track runner's steady heartbeat. Over Haruka's shoulder, the alarm clock glowed out the time. 5:30 AM. The memories of the disasterous social party came flooding back. Michiru had to smile in spite of everything.

"I love you..." Haruka mumbled unexpectedly, out of nowhere, still in the world of dreams. Dreams that included someone like _her_.

The Kaioh girl stared at the dozing Haruka for a moment. Her mouth opened in a wide 'O', then closed and curved into a soft smile. Tears pricked warmly at the corners of her eyelids. "Oh, Ruka." Michiru whispered tenderly, nuzzling the blonde's collarbone gently. "Please don't leave me. Don't go away..." The violinist pressed herself closer eagerly to get at Haruka's generated heat. It felt so nice to cuddle against the track runner's strong, beautiful body. Her skin, her scent, her mere presence was enough to send Michiru crazy. But she could never admit just how deep those feelings went. She simply didn't know. Later, maybe, when her Ruka woke up. Not now.

"Don't change..."


	7. Down

Well, wasn't that last chapter _sappy_? I know I thought so.

**Disclaimer still stands.**

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It wasn't Michiru's voice that woke her up. 

It wasn't feeling as if her head had been cracked in two by a tempermental gnome with a rather large hammer that was on fire.

Eyes snapping open, Haruka instantly knew that she had _very_ little time before all of the excessive alcohol she had taken would try to exit her body in a _very_ messy way. Waking up face to face with the beautiful eyes of Michiru was admittedly rather nice, but an ominous heave in her gut quickly forced her to shift priorities. And then, once more, she suddenly felt like someone had just kicked her with a steel-toed boot. The feeling of urgency, like the one a driver of a van full of kids with overloaded bladders might be familiar with, all but screamed at her. It was a little surprising how Haruka managed to keep her voice so level as she stared imploringly at Michiru.

"Bathroom."

Michiru, to her credit, got over the shock of her crush waking up so soon after her words had left her mouth fairly quickly. The desperation shining in Haruka's mesmerizing teal eyes caught her attention faster than if they were neon lights. Without missing a beat, the violinist jerked a thumb at the door on her side of the bed. She, just like the sandy-blonde, was not keen on the idea of Haruka emptying her guts on the mattress, sheets, and pillows.

"Door to your right."

Haruka made an attempt to leap out of the bed, the covers wrapped around her legs impeding her escape and making her slam her head on the floor. Grumbling and cursing, Haruka began crawling while freeing her lower body from the confining sheets. With some effort the racer managed to do so, pushing herself into making an undignified scramble on all fours and essentially diving into the bathroom. She got there just in time for her stomach to heave and forcefully empty its contents into the smooth porcelain bowl. Haruka was suddenly grateful that her hair was too short to risk getting in the way. She had a second to smile offhandedly at this thought before her face suddenly contorted into a mask of pain.

Her wound had reopened.

Sharp threads of fire networked over her trembling body, biting and harsh like acid under her skin. Haruka gripped the toilet seat until the spasm of pain had finally faded into a stinging ache, shuddering and trying to regain her breath. A thick, metallic scent panged against her consciousness. It made her look down, and she saw blotches of scarlet spread blurrily over her favorite white shirt. "Shit." Haruka cursed indistinctly, and not just because of the ruined garment. The sandy-blonde let out a strangled hiss as she pressed a hand against the gash in hopes to stop the flow of precious blood.

Her gasps of pain first escalated and then was blocked out as nausea passed over her in one, brutal, crushing wave. Hot tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she closed them and was sent into a fit that racked her entire being. Haruka retched into the toilet three more times, wanting nothing more at that moment then to be allowed to scream from the agony that jolted through her with every move her traitorous stomach made.

Finally, the time came when the racer could safely lift her head out of the toilet bowl. Haruka took several deep breaths, willing the pain in her side away with each one. As her stomach came back under control and the searing anguish quieted down enough for her to open her eyes, the racer noticed Michiru standing in the doorway. Staring at her with a look so full of pity Haruka couldn't face it and looked away. She tried to keep herself from crying by looking at the hand she had used as a compress instead.

It was slick with blood, the smell overwhelming her senses and reminding of the foolish actions at the party that had led up to this miserable situation. Haruka watched as it slid down her arm. It was unpleasantly hot and sticky, leaving a smeary residue as it trickled over her skin. The fat droplets of crimson fell to the floor. It made almost beautiful designs against the shining white tiles, curving and twisting like fire. A splotch of water landed near one of the hypnotizing pools.

Only after a few seconds did Haruka realize that it had come from the tears spilling silently down her face. This time, she didn't bother trying to stop them. Why had she been so stupid? Drinking three bottles of wine...she knew she was lucky to still be alive. Rememberance at how she had fallen in the snow, at what her stupidity had almost cost her, made Haruka bite her lip in shame. The feeling of the space beside her being filled made her turn her head. And the sight of Michiru kneeling next to her, an array of washcloths and bandages spread out on the tile floor, one hand already moving to wipe away the tears on Haruka's cheeks, nearly made her gasp in surprise.

Without a word, Michiru pushed Haruka down until the blonde was laying on her back. Haruka had to stifle a yelp of surprise when the violinist unbuttoned the shirt that was stained beyond all hope of salvation, leaving the other girl clad in loose jeans and a bra. Dirty thought after dirty thought filled up her mind almost as if they had been summoned by magic. The racer couldn't help but blush as Michiru lifted up her arm and gently cleaned it, the painter's hand warm against her skin. The moment was broken as the Kaioh girl moved down to inspect the blonde's stomach, surveying the limp red cloth she had put over the gash earlier like a maid would eye a particularly contrary speck of grime on a window. Hot breath struck the sensitive skin as Michiru talked to herself and made her patient shiver pleasantly.

"The bandage wasn't nearly as absorbing as the package it came in promised. Goddamn it."

She peeled off the blood-soaked bandage and flung it away in such a resigned manner it seemed like the whole situation was an everyday occurance, just another ordinary thing life had decided to throw at her. Something that was no trouble, that she wouldn't think twice about doing. Haruka kept her eyes trained on the trash bin it landed in, feeling tears threaten to take over again. If she hadn't become so morose, she would have noticed the violinist's foul language.

As it was, Haruka went into such a brooding slump that it left her nearly deaf to anything else. Contemplation of last night's events found the sandy-blonde biting her lip and blinking furiously. So Michiru had taken her home, cleaned her up, bandaged her, and let her sleep in the same bed in order to keep her warm. How in the hell was Haruka worthy of such kindness when it was her in the first place who robbed the beautiful violinist of so much sleep it had caused her to faint? Guilt continued to eat away at her, and the racer most likely would have broken down again if Michiru's voice hadn't interrupted her glum thoughts.

"We're going to the hospital."

Haruka stared in awe at the violinist, mouth already falling open in protest. But the determined look in Michiru's eyes, so like a raging sea, warned that she would brook no further argument. Haruka shut up and let the Kaioh girl swab a damp washcloth over the smeared and sticky skin. The wound may have stopped bleeding, but it was a relief to know that it would heal in fastidious conditions. Haruka couldn't help but tremble as Michiru's hand piloted a paper towel across her stomach, drying it, then applying a bandage over the gash in an almost fastidious manner. It felt nice. Even nicer, in fact, to know that someone as high class as Michiru would tend to her as fondly ---she hoped that was the right adjective--- as a mother would. The other girl's next words, however, drained all the blood out of Haruka's flushed cheeks.

"I'm driving."

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"I don't care if you just got stitches, Haruka Tenoh. Any more of your backseat driving and I swear to God I will smack you."

The sandy-blonde quieted down, despite the fact that a smile still played around her lips. One also made itself apparent on Michiru's own face, although she kept her eyes on the road. Haruka had been pointing out all the flaws in her driving for the past fifteen minutes. Beforehand, she had complained of the incessant boredom that threatened to kill her dead where she sat in the passenger seat. Haruka sighed as she forced herself to relax, leaning back and staring down glumly at the soft blue t-shirt Michiru had let her borrow, as her old white one had been too soaked with blood to be worth saving. She eyed the spot where the stitches hid under the fabric. The feel of the needles tingled even now. Even so, those four tiny stitches hadn't taken a lot longer than she had expected them to; it was the hospitial staff that had proven to be the most aggravating experiance. It was only with the grace of God and a little bit of charm did Haruka manage to convince the doctor that no, she did not need to stay over night and yes, she felt fine enough to walk around on her own.

Now, not five minutes after collapsing into silence, the racer tried to convince Michiru how her surgery had not been necessary. This time around, though, Haruka's voice held none of the playful whining it had before. Her blue grey were as somber and desolate as if she had committed an unforgivable crime. They remained fixated on the Ferrari's built-in clock, 2:30 PM glowing back at her in stark digital numbers. She could not bear to look at the girl she secretly loved.

"You didn't have to do this much for me. I...I know how you had that important violin rehearsal today, and I made you have to skip it to take me to the hospital. I'm sorry."

If any of this had occured to Michiru, not a flicker of it showed on her face. That steadfast expression she had worn since that morning never changed as the violinist regarded the shame-faced Haruka, except for a small smile that slowly wormed its way onto those soft and inviting lips. Michiru placed a hand on Haruka's shoulder and let her eyes soften. The racer could barely believe the words that came so easily out of the other girl's mouth.

"You really think that my schedule is that inflexible? I can simply make up for it tomorrow. In fact, I was just about to call my instructor and let him know."

Haruka's eyes widened as Michiru unhesitantly picked up the cellphone from it's place in one of the cup holder. She felt a light blush tint her cheeks as the sea green-haired girl set the phone against her ear. The following conversation fell upon deaf ears; Haruka was too busy mulling over the trouble Michiru was undoubtedly going through for her. Noticing the blonde's embarrassment and having a shrewd guess why, the Kaioh girl said good-bye to her teacher and snapped the phone shut. As the intersection's light turned red, Michiru found the opportunity she needed to give Haruka the most compassionate look she could muster. The other girl felt her body betray her again. Her skin prickled, her blood raced, her heart thudded so loud in her ears it was a wonder that she could hear anything at all.

"Haruka, the most essential thing here is that you get better. You are in no condition to go anywhere so soon after surgery, no matter what _bullshit_ you told the doctor when we left. "

Despite the (mostly) kind words, Haruka just could not shake the guilt and shame that had latched onto her conscience with hooked little claws. The light turned green, and the Ferrari sprang forward across the intersection to the adjacent street. The two continued in silence. The racer stared out the window, too completely absorbed in her thoughts to note the bare trees flitting by. Just as Michiru turned onto Fallenash Street, Haruka seemed to come out of her reverie and realize where her friend was heading. She blinked in surprise.

"But what about you? What about school?"

Michiru surprised her even more by slamming on the brakes, making Haruka thankful for the seatbelt that kept her from smashing into the dashboard. Swiveling her head around so fast the bones in her neck cricked, Michiru stretched out her arm and took a firm grip on the racer's collar. Leaning forward, she pulled Haruka close until their noses were almost touching. Haruka felt her cheeks heat up as she looked into the emerald eyes that glittered dangerously, as if daring her to just _try_ and break away before the violinist had had her say. Michiru's one-handed grasp on the steering wheel tightened, her knuckles turning white under the pressure as she glared defiantly at the sandy blonde.

"_Fuck_ school. You're a thousand times more important to me."

Haruka fell silently back into the passenger's seat as the painter released her grip and pressed down on the gas again. The Ferrari resumed moving. Jazz played softly on the radio, unnoticed by either of the vehicle's occupants. The blonde didn't say a word as they pulled into the paved driveway. She remained silent as Michiru got out and began up the steps to the house. In fact, it was only after a good few seconds could Haruka find the will to even turn her head. She gazed at Michiru, fumbling with the house keys and swearing prettily, with a look so barely used in her life that for a moment it was like her face couldn't remember how to do it. But then her lips managed to quirk into a secret little smile, and her eyes whirled and blazed and sparkled with all of her hidden emotions. If Michiru had by chance happened to look up, had looked into those dancing blue-grey eyes, she would've seen every last one of the thoughts and feelings the racer so often kept locked away from the outside world. She would have been able to look into the mirror of Haruka's very soul.

Following after Michiru with an almost lovesick expression, Haruka almost tripped on another tacky rug on the way in. She managed to catch herself, and could not help but grin at the violinist's sweet pearls of laughter. She knew that Michiru didn't mean anything hurtful by it.

"This is what I mean, Ruka. I'd worry about leaving you here alone. No offense Ruka, but you would probably starve to death just by not knowing where the kitchen is."

Haruka's snort of disbelief quickly turned into a hiss of pain as her side twinged when she sat down on the couch. Michiru gave her a knowing look and padded out of the living room. She returned with a glass of water. It fizzled slightly. "Aspirin," she added as a note of explaination. "It'll ease the pain, or maybe just knock you out." Haruka took the glass gratefully, taking a small sip before glancing back up at the violinist.

"How many did you put in here?"

"Two."

Haruka nodded and then, to Michiru's surprise, tilted back her head and downed the entire glass without stopping. Taking a deep breath, the sandy blonde eyed the empty container as she waited for the effects to kick in. After a few minutes in which it was assumed that they had, Haruka shook her head. Raising her head slightly, Michiru caught a glimpse of the teal eyes that gleamed with amusement and the face creased into a laughing grin.

"I'll need a lot more than that."

No more had the words been spoken when Haruka fell asleep. Her eyes closed, her head hit the cushion, and she was out. The empty glass still stayed in her grasp, as if the racer was, even when dreaming, afraid to drop it.

* * *

As we continue this long-winded romance, I have considered upping this fic's rating to M. The language, as you might have noticed, has been getting steadily coarser and used more often. There has been instances of getting drunk and bloody stuff already, and there will be violence in later chapters. So, should I do it? Or not? I want to hear what you all have to say.


	8. Madness

Welly well well then. After much though, I have decided to keep this fanfic's rating at a T. But, if some chapters end up being Mature enough to warrant it, I will up the rating to an M. However, for the readers like dear Wandering Cat who take heed to the rating advisories, I shall post warnings in bold and underlined type at the beginning of the chapters deemed to be Mature. This way, those readers can merely skip over or ignore the Mature bits as there will be a synopsis at the start of the chapters after the M rated ones so they will not be left in the dark. But there is no guarantee that any of this will actually happen. Tis only a plan for now.

Sorry that the chapter is up late! I basically got half the chapter written and then crashed on my bed. Teenagers need naps too. I made it somewhat long to make up for it. Rally-ho!

**Disclaimer still stands.**

* * *

Thunderclaps and lightning struck as one when the minute hand finally clicked into place beneath the cardinal bronze numbers, reverberating in harmonic resonance as the clock tolled out the hour in a deep, rumbling boom. 

Michiru opened her mouth in a soft yawn, blinked her eyes blearily for a minute, then shut her book and laid it quietly upon the coffee table. She cracked her knuckles to get rid of the kinks in her fingers, then winced as the sound echoed loudly in the thick silence. The violinist let out a sigh of relief as the girl beside her did not stir. Haruka was spread out on the couch, sleeping soundly, one arm dangling over the side. Strands of sandy gold both contrasted sharply with the green cushions on which she sprawled and matched the jade color rather nicely. The racer had let out a muffled whimper whenever Michiru moved away, and so the other girl had resigned herself to staying put.

Not yet willing to sleep, she contented herself with looking at her crush. It was something she had caught herself doing for the past few hours. Michiru smiled as she watched Haruka's back slowly rise and fall as she breathed, air slipping out between slightly-open lips in a steady, calming rhythm. The blonde snored softly, the sound a lot cuter than it was annoying. Letting a hand carefully play with a lock of hair that had fallen across the Tenoh girl's face, Michiru found herself trying not to cry. So many questions, so many thoughts, burned unsaid on her tongue and lips. The violinist knew that Haruka loved her. It was written, if not on her face, in the eyes that sparkled and twinkled like stars. But Michiru was not stupid; she could also see the fear that lurked behind the love. The racer was not ready for a confession. Michiru was not ready to push the matter. And so they stayed in tantalizing limbo.

Guilt ate away at her even now. Michiru could feel it trying to chip away her self-esteem as Haruka sleepily caught hold of the teasing hand playing with her hair and hugged it close to her. The violinist wanted to say that she was sorry, that it was all her fault that Haruka got hurt, but she did not have the courage to face those blue-grey eyes that captured her own so easily. So by her actions, not her words that sounded foolish and weak even in her head, Michiru attempted to redeem herself enough to be worthy of Haruka's love. The sea green-haired girl tried to gently remove her hand fom the blonde's grasp but to no avail. Haruka clung to it tight, but after a few soft murmurs fell back into a deep sleep and let go. Filled with a sudden desire to join the track star in slumber, Michiru felt her eyes growing heavy; with a soft thud her head hit the couch and she was out.

Their hearts seemed to beat as one as they laid side-by-side.

And they dreamed the dreams of those in love; of confessions beneath a shower of blossom petals; of kisses wrapped in warm gusts of wind; of caresses upon moonlight-streaked sheets; of a bond they both yearned to share yet feared making the first step towards achieving it. Sometime under the cover of darkness, arms wrapped around Michiru's waist. Her aquamarine tresses spilled across shoulders that seemed strong enough to carry any burden, brushed against a chest that held a heart just as tender and frail as any human's. The strands seemed to glow in the rays the moon managed to slip through the cracks in the curtain blinds. In the morning the contact would have been broken and they would wake up apart. But for now it did not matter; in this moment of time, they were locked in a union that their minds would feverishly pretend to be, _could_ be, _real_. For how long or little it lasted, the illusion crafted by the lucent moon, the aura, the radiant shield dancing upon their bodies that chased away the darkness in their rhythmic hearts, continued to shimmer like liquid against their skin and the two slept with more peace than they ever had before.

Neither one twisted. Neither one turned. There was only a warmth so beautiful they embraced it, and drowned themselves in it. And far away, the call of a wild hawk rang out and was answered. No longer alone they flew, feathers gleaming and twin voices erupting in notes _so_ vivid and_ so_ clear as the duo swooped together on the nightly breeze.

_Dreams._

_Wind._

_Light._

Morning broke, and Haruka knew that she was in trouble.

No matter what the pleasant thoughts that had bounced through her head last night had contained, the blonde realized that as of now she was in Grade-A Trouble. With a capital T. For it seemed that, as Michiru had deemed her pants too wrinkled to wear, the track star would be borrowing some of her clothes to wear for school. The violinist was so pleased with the idea that Haruka had immense difficulties in denying her Michi what she wanted. So here she was in front of Michiru's closet, fearing for her very life. She was scared to open the door; what horrors might lie beyond the both reassuring and incredibly intimidating inches of wood, hinges, and knob? What if a monster made of pure Girl jumped out and attempted to eat her brain, steal her soul, and make her bleed all over Michiru's pretty carpet?

Her hand grasped the handle as if of its own accord, turned it, and pulled.

Haruka's face paled. In the rows upon rows of short skirts, high-heeled stockings, and frilly dresses, there was not a pair of pants in sight. At least, not any that looked comfortable. Frozen stiff with absolute terror and morbid fascination, Haruka could not say a word as Michiru pranced past saying something about a "cute little pair of jeans that'll show off your hips". Haruka's life flashed before her eyes. "Death By Tight Jeans And Humiliation" would be engraved on her headstone. The sermon preacher would be trying not to giggle. Hell would consist of dancing pink hip-hugger pants screaming out "Hollaback Girl" lyrics. A thousand escape plans came to mind, and she obeyed the first one without hesistation.

"Haruka! Leave the window alone!"

Foiled.

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It was lunchtime, and as there had been no earthly way to get her money out of the pockets once she had squeezed into the pants, Haruka had decided to pack a lunch. The brown bag clutched in one hand, Haruka winced as she walked down the halls. She felt all sorts of eyes on her, and it was making her really edgy. The track star's eyes darted about, afraid that the second she looked away someone would grope her bottom. But there was another reason for her uneasy behaviour; the jeans made her chafe. Also, Haruka was afraid to bend over. All of that was forgotten when she saw Michiru waiting for her at the double entrance doors. The violinist was like a amnesia patch for all of the blonde's troubles.

"Shall we go outside and dine with my esteemed associates?"

"We shall."

Haruka had to grin as she opened the door for the other girl. The casual feeling between her and Michiru felt wonderfully genuine. It was nice to be able to hang out with someone and not worry about saying the wrong thing because you felt too comfortable around the other to take much offense. Haruka didn't know exactly how this deep-seated trust in the violinist came about so quickly, but then again she didn't really care. Michiru was a real true blue friend, corny as the phrase was. She had rescued her from dying the snow and took her bleeding ass to the hospitial if nothing else. Maybe in time her feelings of infatuation and/or love would stop trying to kill her from the inside out. Michiru looked around the courtyard. A warm breeze ruffled her hair, and Haruka felt the sudden urge to touch it. Nope. Emotions still in Murder Mode.

"Speaking of those three, where _are_ they?"

Haruka blinked for a minute before remembering that Michiru hadn't met Ami yet. Managing to tear her eyes away from the Kaioh girl's hair long enough to realize that Rei, Minako, Ami, and Usagi were nowhere in sight, Haruka placed her hands on her hips in exasperation.

"Huh. I guess we'll have to go look for them."

The blonde started to walk off in a random direction when Michiru's arm, still linked oh-so-comfortably with hers, pulled her back a few steps.

"Wait a minute, Ruka. Do you hear something?"

Haruka stood still and cocked one ear. Sure enough, familiar voices made their way faintly to her on the breeze. They all seemed to be yelling about something.

"Gods damn it. What are they doing now?"

Lunch forgotten, Haruka followed the strain of voices around to the back of the school, Michiru following at her side. As the voices became louder and louder, the two turned a corner and were confronted by a screaming crowd surrounding one person. Upon further investigation, the crowd was comprised of Usagi, Minako and Rei. The poor person in the middle was Ami, looking like she would rather be anywhere but there. Her face was beet red, and Haruka tried not to laugh at how Usagi was poking her and yelling, "Tell us! Tell us! Tell us!" over and over again. Minkao and Rei were hounding her mercilessly to "spill". Haruka did not have a fleeting clue as to what secret the genius was hiding, but found it funny all the same. The soft giggles beside her that Michiru was trying very hard to suppress counted as agreement. Trying not to imitate her too much, Haruka waved a greeting to her friend.

"Hey there, Rei. Are you trying to make Ami explode by any chance? And can I join in?"

"Don't be mean, Ruka."

"Sorry, Michi."

Rei stopped her relentless tormenting of Ami long enough to look up and see Haruka. She also happened to see the really hot violinist standing next to her. The black haired girl started to wave as she remembered just who Michiru was, before noticing the other girl's arm linked with Haruka's. A smirk began to spread over Rei's face; she looked not like the cat that swallowed the canary, but more like the cat that caught the canaries screwing. Haruka's blood ran cold. She knew exactly what the black haired girl was thinking with that smug, self-satisfied look. She had a sinking suspicion at what it would yield if Rei opened her mouth. Her fears were only confirmed as Rei did just that.

"So, you two skipped school yesterday. Anything..._interesting_ happen?"

Minkao and Usagi lifted their heads and stared at Haruka like cats would eye a ball of yarn. The sandy blonde felt fear ripple through her as she looked from the duo back to Rei. Mischief flashed in the miko's purple eyes. Michiru laughed; she realized what was going on as well. She also, to Haruka's great relief, found the whole thing too amusing to be insulting. No one noticed Ami escaping from her interrogators. All eyes were on a stuttering and blushing Haruka.

"N-n-nothing happened, you guys. There is no r-reason as to why you should th-th-think that. What medication have you all b-been taking?"

"Haruka, I have been to your apartment multiple times and I know that that shirt and those jeans definately don't belong to you. Nor would you be capable of possesssing the proper shopping state of mind to even comprehend the thought of buying them, or knowing how cute they make you look. Those are girly pants. You are not girly."

"Okay, fine. So Michi let me borrow them because I slept in mine and made them all wrinkled. And when I say 'sleep', I mean 'on the couch'. That in itself does not point to sexual deviancy!"

"Liar. You probably stole Michiru's innocence away after luring her into a walk-in closet with promises of candy. Shameful, shameful."

The violinist, who had already been laughing at the conversation, starting laughing harder and louder at how her Ruka's face was quickly resembling an eggplant. Flipping her hair back over her shoulder with one hand, Michiru regarded Rei with a knowing smirk very similiar to the one the miko had been wearing earlier.

"Nothing of the sort happened, you silly little sex pervert."

Now it was Rei's turn to feel embarrassed. Face red, her arms began to flail wildly as she denied Michiru's claim. "I am not a sex pervert! Minako! Usagi! Find out the truth from Ms. Androgynous over there, stat!" The two blondes nodded and, like giant yellow cats from hell, tackled Haruka and bowled her over.

"What did you do? Reveal all or else!"

"Yes, tell us! Or I'll sit on you!"

"She'd do it, too!"

"Oof! Don't you dare. Get off of me you two! Damn you Rei...hey, I mean it Usagi! Don't sit on me!"

Laughing shamelessly at the sandy blonde's misfortune, Michiru and Rei took a moment to wipe the tears of mirth from their eyes. Turning around and noticing that Ami had escaped, Rei crossed her arms. "Dammit. She got away." She glared at the spot where the bluenette had been earlier, as if hoping to scorch the patch of grass by sheer force of will. Now sufficiently calmed down, Michiru gave voice to the curiousity burning in her skull like a fiery bonfire of _fire_.

"What were you all interrogating her for anyway? The poor girl looked like she was about to pop."

"Ami had a fresh hickey on her neck yesterday and wouldn't say who did it. We just managed to corner her today. I'm guessing that the person she's dating is either already engaged, or is a forbidden member of the finer sex."

"Oooh. Drama, secret lovers, and the possibility of homewrecking _and_ lesbian tendencies behind the scenes? I think I'm going to like it here."

"Heh. Clearly, we are going to be good friends."

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Ami was running. She was running fast, and hard, and with no idea where she was going. She didn't know whether to feel ashamed or relieved. When there was a problem, she ran away. When there was conflict, she was the first one out the door. Ami felt like the biggest coward on the face of the Earth. She also felt like her heart was trying to catapult itself through her ribcage in a manner that a jackhammer would envy. Slowing down long enough to catch her breath, Ami lifted her head to find that she had come to a halt on the steps of the town library. _Figures_, she thought as she opened the oaken doors and staggered inside. _I always end up running straight to her._

The library was dim and quiet, the thick scent of new books mixed with the dust on the bookshelves making the atmosphere seem faintly nostalgic. Although normally calming to the genius, all Ami could smell was the tantalizing mixture of strawberries and cream that she become so damn familiar with it almost made her sick. But she could never be sick of _her_. No, not in a lifetime. Advancing carefully, cautiously, silently, on the dark navy carpet, Ami kept her eyes trained on the figure sitting in the rocking chair in a corner. She was always here around lunchtime, reading romance novels instead of studying. Whenever the bluenette got on her case about it, the other girl would just laugh and ruffle Ami's hair affectionately and say that there was no need to worry, she always had Ami to help her. And Ami would blush and stutter like the lovesick idiot she was, but would never deny the statement.

Now though, she couldn't help but feel thankful that Makoto Kino hadn't decided to bury her nose in a science textbook just yet.

The brunette looked up as she approached, and Ami marvelled at the other girl's almost owl-like hearing. Her heart increased its pace as those painfully sweet lips curving into a soft smile and those jade eyes seemed to glow as if lit from within. Ami wanted to drown in those eyes, but knew that now wasn't the time. She had to say her piece; maybe later she could let herself feel that love shining in Makoto's evergreen eyes. Makoto set down her pencil and stood up, making Ami having to tilt her head up a little to keep herself from being tempted to look down at her shoes instead of her lover's face. "Hey there, Ami. I didn't think I'd be seeing you today. I mean, it's a nice surprise and all and--"

"I'm sorry."

Makoto's cheerful tone faltered, her smile wavered, her eyes glittered with concern.

"...Ami, what's wrong?"

Ami shut her eyes, unable to look the other girl in the face any longer. "I wish I could kiss you in public. I wish I could tell my friends about how wonderful you are. But I'm scared. I'm scared that I'll get hurt. Hell, I'm scared that _you'll_ get hurt. I'm sorry." In a further display of unpredictablity, Ami began to weep. She did not sob, or wail, and even sniffle. Ever since kindergarden when the boys would sometimes push her a little too hard, the bluenette had always been a silent crier. From behind,watching her walk away, you could almost never tell that something was wrong.

But Makoto was not looking at her back, she was staring at Ami's face; the tousled blue hair, the wet-slicked cheeks, the soft skin, the perfect lips she longed to kiss in places less secluded than a janitor's closet or a empty library. A hand reached out to gently brush the genius's tears away. There was no impatience, no annoyance in her touch. Ami seemed to relax then, letting strong arms hold her. She felt like she was on a cloud, far away from any danger, far above a world full of mockery and scorn. In her own little world, in her own little castle, in her own little fantasy that she had dreamed about when she was seven years old. But Ami was no longer seven, and this was not a figment of her imagination anymore.

"Someday I'll be ready to take the next step, Mako-chan. Someday I'll find the courage to tell my friends and everyone else about you. Someday...someday I'll be brave enough to hold your hand. I...I just hope you won't leave before that happens." At this Ami let out a half-choked sound, as if the words she was trying to say were too painful, too heavy, too much for her to handle.

Makoto merely smiled and brushed her lips against the bluenette's forehead. "I'll wait forever, Ami. That's a promise." Ami allowed herself a little, cautious smile as she gazed into the sparkling emerald eyes that made her feel stronger, braver, _better_ than she could have ever thought herself to be. She was perfect to Makoto.

"But for now, try not to put love bites where others can see. I got ambushed today."

"Heh. Fair enough. I'll just leave 'em somewhere else. Better set my sights lower then, huh?"

"Makoto!"

* * *

Note that I have nothing against those who wear hip-hugger pants, like the color pink, or listen to Gwen Stefani. I like some of her songs as well. Just remember that it's HARUKA who despises them. HARUKA-SAMA SHALL FEEL YOUR WRATH, NOT MEEEE! Also, isn't AmixMakoto the cutest side-couple ever? I certainly think so! 


	9. Temper

Okay. Since it seems like a regular updating schedule is knocking me out of my writing groove, expect updates bi-weekly but not always on Wednesday or Friday. But there _will_ be two new chapters each Monday-through-Sunday week, I promise. For those who like the Ami/Haruka friendship interaction, this chapter's for you!

**Disclaimer still stands.**

* * *

When Ami walked into math class late, Haruka didn't bat an eye. 

When she noticed that the bluenette had walked in with her glasses askew, shirt wrinkled, and skirt on backwards, however, one of her eyebrows nearly disappeared into her fringe of sandy blonde bangs. The blonde couldn't help but feel smug as Ami was gently rebuked by a still slightly shocked teacher and padded down the aisle to her seat. Unfortunately for the genius, it was right next to Haruka's. Ami seemed to realize the fate to which she had been condemned and resigned herself to plopping down first her books, then her entire body onto the desk with a exasperated little sigh. To her great surprise, her friend didn't say one word. Haruka wasn't even looking at her with those mischievous blue-gray eyes; the other girl seemed honestly focused on the pop quiz their rather _evil_ math teacher had handed out earlier. Still looking down at her paper, Haruka slid an extra copy of it towards Ami. With a look of those who are expecting a malevolent hurricane but instead get a rather indifferent and aloof storm, and blinking, Ami bowed her head and started on her own quiz.

The silence was only broken by the scratching of lead on paper and soft profanity over the difficult problems that, sad to say for the unprepared, were as equally numerous as they were tedious. Ami thought her ears were going to burn off from the foul language before training said hearing functions to tune it out.

Minutes ticked by, or crawled by, whichever. For Ami, they flew like someone had given them silver wings and twin jet engines. The blur that was her hand quickened its pace after a swift galnce at the clock on the wall. Her pencil had just finished making her last mark on the final problem when third period ended. A high, sharp series of notes echoed around the room and down the hall, pinging off the walls into sleepy teenagers' ears to rattle inside the confines of their skull. Needless to say, the new bell system was perfect for waking up students. A few off them actually fell off their chairs and got a mouthful of carpet. The rest began to disperse to their next class, jostling and shoving each other as they did. Just as Ami had leaned over to collect Haruka's test so that she could put add both of them to the pile on the teacher's desk, Haruka took that moment to speak. The blonde leaned in close. Her lips almost brushed against Ami's earlobe.

"So, the genius got a little lovin' today, did she?"

Startled, Ami flung her arms up into the air and nearly fell over backward. The papers fluttered to the floor. "Haruka!" The track star started laughing uproariously, growing louder to crush the claim that it wasn't all that funny. Grumbling and blushing, Ami knelt over to retrieve the papers. Just at that moment Haruka seemed to find flipping her skirt up the most hilarious idea ever concieved. Yelping, Ami leapt up and patted down her skirt as if afraid that her friend had stolen her buttocks when she wasn't looking. She vaguely realized that said skirt was on backwards. She wondered how that could have happened. "Quit it!" She snapped at a nearly breathless Haruka, who was by now almost bent double with laughter. Finally, the blonde began to calm down, still letting out a few scattered giggles.

"I-I'm sorry, Ami. But…heh heh…you have…hee…a hickey on your thigh! Ha ha ha!"

First Ami's face flushed a bright red, and then it drained until she looked as pale as a ghost. It was kind of fun to watch the rapid color change of her cheeks. It was even more amusing to see the look on Haruka's face as Ami's rather large brain came up with a biting retort.

"Just because you're not getting any doesn't mean that I can't!"

Haruka's expression became one of surprise, then shifted to looking like she had been slapped, then speechless. It was like her face couldn't decide which emotion her mind wanted to express. Finally, the racer settled on a defeated pout, slouched in her seat, and crossed her arms. Activating Sulk-Mode, Haruka stuck out her lower lip and gave Ami a look of indignant resentment.

"That was below the belt, Ami."

Letting a rare smirk cross her face, the genius made an exaggerated gesture at her still-on-backwards-skirt.

"I'm not wearing a belt."

Haruka told Ami to screw off through use of rude and simplistic hand gestures. When that didn't faze the bluenette, she resorted to sticking out her tongue in the most impudent way she could. The blonde even went so far as to throw little crumpled up balls of paper at her friend. Ami merely caught them all and desposited them in the trashcan. Finally, with a sigh of utter and total surrender, Haruka stood up and started to walk out the door. The grunt she made might have been one of annoyance, or just to get Ami's attention. Looking back over her shoulder, Haruka managed to crack a grin.

"Wanna join me on my hunt for our tempermental miko? The game is afoot, Ami!"

Ami rolled her eyes and smiled, and followed the racer out of the room. She was used to Haruka's moodswings by now. Well, as much as anyone _could_ under any circumstances.

"It's third period, right?"

"Yes. And we're going to make Rei profoundly absent from Gym yet again, it seems. Oh Haruka, why must you be such an evil influence?"

"Hey, now..."

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Michiru was pissed. Michiru was really, totally, completely _pissed_.

Actually, by now she was beyond the point of noticable wrath and was so far down into the cold depths of silent, fuming _rage _it was almost funny. Like how watching a tiger throw itself against a cage was funny; it was amusing to see the animal try to get out when you knew that it couldn't, but it also made you a little afraid. What if the tiger knew something you didn't? What if it _knew_ that the bars were going to collapse after the fifth try or so? Hilarious.

The letters seemed to bounce across the paper in a dance of mockery. She glared at them, hoping to make the parchment burst into flames with sheer force of will. In big block print, a tidy little paragraph took up most of the page., Michiru recognized the writing; it would have been embarrassing if she hadn't, as it was her own. The violinist remembered how long it had taken her to finish her application request, to put down every logical reason and cause that was possible as proof as to why she of all people should be chosen, and to put the fear of God into the keyboard of her computer. The right words written in the right way, with the right amount of honesty and clarity; not too exaggerating and not too vague. Four hours she had poured into that neat paragraph, and within five minutes of being turned in it had been handed back to her with a bleeding red stamp of REJECTED all across the print she had worked so hard on.

"Sir, if I might be so forward as to question your decision..." Michiru spoke slowly as she stared levelly across the top of the "formal" letter, trying not to clench her teeth too much as she did. The wrinkling of her teacher's nose seemed to say that he rather _did_ mind her opinion. Minded it very much indeed. This was not how it went for him; he said this, his pupils did this. He said that, they did that. He said jump, they were scrabbling for the auditorium's rafters. Instructor Hocaloogee took off his glasses, licked the lenses, and wiped them on the hem of his flamboyant red robe. Michiru flinched inwardly and wondered why some people had never heard of a squirt bottle and a rag. Or even just a tissue and cool water, for god's sake. An image of her violin and a glass container of cleaning spray breaking in two over his head made her combat the urge to grin evilly.

"Why, exactly, has my application been turned down, sir?"

"Well, you see Miss Kaioh--"

"Is it my grades, sir?"

"No, that is not the--"

"Have I been disrespectful to either you, the equipment, or my fellow musicians?"

"Um, no, you haven't Miss Kaioh--"

"Did my last performance not meet the standards you have set?"

"They surpassed them, actually. But you see--"

"Then what, pray tell, could be the problem here, _sir_?"

The instructor coughed again and straightened the dark maroon tie worn over his robe that Michiru despised so much. He had felt the sarcasm hidden within that last and decidedly pointed 'sir'. He thought that he saw a gleam of murderous intent flashed through those aquamarine eyes, but it came and went so quickly he could not be sure. Hocaloogee caught a flash of his own mortality and edged away from the desk at which Michiru sat. The older male fiddled with his glasses. "Well, er, you see, I have it on good authority that certain..._people_ have been in a proximity that is not desirable to an astute and talented prodigy like yourself if hope for advancing your career is what you aspire for." Instructor Hocaloogee took a moment to ponder his next sentence as a part of his mind sorted through the flowery bullshit that he hoped to use to get the message across as subtly and violence-free as he could.

"To be blunt-- no, to be _specific_-- it is that...that..."

"Girl," Michiru prompted with a curt nod of her head. Out of sight, her nails began to scratch the underside of the desk in agitation. She wondered if Hocaloogee could hear the _scritch-scritch_ noises she made. She also wondered if death glares actually worked on teachers of a 'politically-stupid' persuasion. The violinist remembered a scene so much like this one it almost hurt; Haruka, running out the door. Haruka, unconscious in the snow. Haruka, bleeding on her bathroom tiles, looking like God had left her to the hands of Satan. _Haruka_. He was talking like this about _Haruka_. Flashes of hot scarlet between her ribs, pupils dilating, nails digging into the skin of her palm, muscles taut like bowstrings...and then the wrath was gone again. Tranquilized, Michiru blinked as the real world swam back into focus.

"... that Haruka Tenoh character I am most worried about."

_I knew it._

_I **knew** it._

"From what I have gathered she is...ah, not possessing of the traits one would expect to find in a companion of someone of your status. Therefore, I have had to draw my own conclusions that excessive interaction with this...this...female...would not be good for the benefit of those who would otherwise join the concert's headliners without hesitation on my part. No one, not even musical geniuses, need any inessential roadblocks hampering the paved road of success, if I may be poetic. "

"So, you have been stalking me. Or you must have heard through the grapevine."

Instructor Hocaloogee froze where he stood. The mere tone of Michiru's voice made his hair stand on end, his skin prickle unpleasantly. Cold, clipped, low, and most of all, reeking of danger. He had woken up the mother bear.

"No, no you _have_ been following me, or employing someone else to do it instead. I can't really understand how your mind works so it's difficult to choose between the two." Michiru said, her voice low and oddly calm. Nothing mattered anymore. The concert, this class, this teacher; _it didn't matter at all_. "This concert is way to keep Haruka out, isn't it? To shunt her to one side because someone like you doesn't think she's good enough to be my friend." Michiru almost added 'lover' to the sentence, but caught herself just in time. No point in saying things that weren't true. "It doesn't matter if I am the top violinist at this school; it all hinges around whom I take as my company. And my choices don't please you, do they? We would not be having this discussion if that were not the case, now would we? If I don't drop Haruka like a rock, I can't play in the concert. Isn't that right?" Fury dripped off her words, her eyes glimmered, her teeth seemed a thousand times sharper; she was like the sea in the grips of a wild, whirling gale. No, she _was_ the hurricane, the tempest, the furious cyclone.

"Miss Kaioh, please be reasonable. I only want what is best for your future."

Hocaloogee had played his last card in a desperate attempt to save face. But it was no use. Michiru looked up and stared into the instructor's eyes. Far away at sea, a storm erupted. The earth shook on its axis for a moment, only a moment. Time marched on once more.

"With all due respect, sir, a true teacher should also care about what the student wants for _herself_. And right now that is a friend, not words of bias, snobbery, and egotistical cruelty, words that I would rather hear from a relative instead of a fellow musician. You took me for granted, sir. You were not honest with me. You thought I would be so shallow as to revoke friendship for stardom, sir, and that hurts me most of all. Good-bye. "

With two, three, four strides she was outside in the hallway. Michiru shut the door behind her and took a deep breath. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes, the anger that had surged in a giant, empowering rush fading away and leaving her cold and empty. When did society suddenly become like a pack of wolves, smiles and reassuring nods hiding a machine of steel fangs and claws and suspicious eyes that judged and condemned? A thought occured to her that was both terrifying and fascinating; what if it had been like that all along? Michiru was confused, hurt, on the brink. She wanted to scream and pound the wall with her fists until they bled. She wanted to sink to the floor and not get up for a very long time. Go and stay. Sit but also stand. Cry and yet sleep.

But what Michiru did was run as fast as she could from her instructor's door, as if trying to escape the feelings of confusion, betrayal, and such bereft melancholy that ate away at her, that threatened to completely swallow her ultimately vulnerable heart.


	10. Justification

Sorry for the lateness, but the turkey I ate did not agree with me. Ah, well. Drama and truancy, beware!

Formula of Panda Kisses:

Michiru40angst x Haruka +/- Rei(40silly) - Amix(Makoto)(20drama).

**Disclaimer still bloody stands.**

* * *

Tears. Hot, wet, sticky tears. Similar enough to sweat to be confused with it; a result of fear, pain, even surprise, accompanied by lies and truths, a telltale sign of overload whether it be emotional or physical. Michiru thought about tears, but not so much into detail as this. 

Instead she wondered why once they started, they refused to stop.

Michiru had finally come to a halt beside her locker. One hand furiously rubbed the tears away as she leaned against it, sniffling and feeling her breath hitch in her throat. As her sobs faded out and the shuddering had calmed down, Michiru looked down and found that her hands were still shaking. She placed them both on the surrounding lockers to steady her nerves and rested her head against her own. It worked; why, she didn't know. It would have been a better question to ask how she even got there in the first place. The tears had forced everything to dance blurrily across her vision, making it hard to see where she was going. But Michiru wasn't caring about that right now. She was just glad she _had_ ended up at her locker, where a little piece of herself, of familiar comfort, was always waiting. After a few deep breaths, Michiru stepped away from the wall.

And just like that, the tentative control she had over herself slipped away and everything crashed down in one big unforgiving wave. Like any inexperianced surfer, she struggled to the surface and floundered in its wake, blinded by the salt and her own fear.

Her mind reeled. Lockers, posters, trophies behind their glass cases seemed to run into each other like candlewax to a make a indistinct, yet haunting mask with a whirlpool for a mouth that leered at her as it spun in a dizzing circle around her head. Dark, heavy thoughts of her failures and faults panged and throbbed and screamed so loud inside her mind that Michiru was half-afraid it would be heard in the deserted hallways, that it would echo and rebound off the walls like some sort of sinister pinball. She dropped to her knees and repressed the urge to be violently sick. Pressing her forehead to the cool tiles, she found with little surprise that she had a slight fever. Waves of nausea rolled by and smoothed out, and Michiru found the will to breathe again returning to her. When her stomach had settled down, the violinist gazed blearily out the window on the far wall. A sliver of blue sky was visible. Birds flitted by, warbling and singing happily in their clear, dulcet tones. The sight made her heart ache for a reason she did not know.

_I've got to get out of here._

The idea struck akin to lightning through smog, clearing away the jumble of angry and confusing thoughts buzzing around in her head like a swarm of bees, offering a way out so possible and so simple it was almost painful. That could work. It _would_ work, by God. She would go home. Yes, home. That was the safest option. But something nagged at her. What about _that_? Could she take _that_? After a few moments of careful consideration, in which her mind took the opportunity to protest and call her all sorts of names, Mchiru nodded. She would take _that_ with her. Turning around and getting to her feet, Michiru brushed a lock of hair out of her face and bent over her locker door.

She couldn't see the combination numbers on her lock through the stubborn haze of tears, but that was all right. Her fingers remembered how to do it. Within seconds it clicked and the door swung open. Her violin case, long, smooth, and black, was wedged carefully into a crack between her textbooks and binders. _What are you doing, you idiot? Don't hang around if you're going to skip school! Moron! Leave the stuff and beat it!_ The thoughts didn't stick this time either, and with a slam Michiru had locked her locker door and was running down the empty hallways again, the black oblong case clasped firmly to her chest. Her shoes beat a frantic tattoo on the tile floor that was just out of sync with her rapidly beating heart.

There was the entrance. There was her escape.

Suddenly, someone bumped shoulders with her, and Michiru spun in a half-circle and had to scramble for the ground under her feet to stay upright. "Sorry!" She shouted as an afterthought, as she caught her balance and continued running, not looking back to see who it was. Not bothering to slow down, the violinist kicked open the front doors, cleared the front steps in one giant leap, then hit the sidewalk and was soon out of sight. She could barely see where she was going; her eyes were almost all the way shut, narrow slits that clouded over with even more stupid, stubborn tears. But she didn't care. The wind was on her face. The smell of fall was sweet and heavenly. The thunderclouds had retreated from her bright blue sky. She was_ free_.

Back at school, Rei had watched her go for a few more stunned, shocked seconds, then had turned around and run back the way she came.  
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Haruka and Ami stormed down the hallways like tanks on a mission.

Well, Haruka did. Ami just followed with her nose in a book. Part of her had once wondered what her dear old mother would say if she knew that her daughter was skipping class. The aspiring doctor had consoled her guilty conscience with first the thought that it was all Haruka's fault, and then with the idea that Gym was the most useless subject known to mankind and that no one in their right mind would blame her for not wanting to take part in the absurdity. Heck, they really should be awarding her some type of medal for this particular brand of truancy. As the two were passing the Gym (Sneaking by actually, and close to the doors too, in case a coach came out at an unexpected and ultimately unwanted moment), there had been the sound of rubber balls slamming against linoleum floors, walls, and fellow students with much shrieking and yelling. Most of which sounded rather painful. Ami had only to imagine a few of them turning her into genius _pate_ to effectively ignore the guilt picking at her from the back of her mind.

While her friend had chosen to distract herself with a book, Haruka had begun to take out her aggression on a nearby locker. Her foot connected with the metal and left a dent. It also unexpectedly made the racer's foot sore and Haruka ended up hopping around holding the injured appendage with much obscene words. For the second time that day, Ami felt her ears begin to burn. Haruka had a brief flashback of slamming her knee into the fender of her Ferrari, and wondered if she really was turning into some tall, unbearably sexy varient of Usagi. The thought both terrified and amused her.

"Damn it! Where is Rei? I wanted to show her this trick I found out about the dispenser by the teacher's lounge."

"Really?" Ami asked, looking up from her book and interested in spite of herself. The candy machine of which her racing friend was talking about had a unfortunate habit of refusing to give up the packages of gooey chocolate to any students, and giving away too much to any teachers. It was a conspiracy that annoyed many and pleased few. Like any schoolgirl with a secret penchant for sweet things, Ami was willing to hear more.

"I found a way to make it give you free candy..."

"HARUKA! AMI!"

Ami nearly jumped out of her skin, and Haruka almost fell over. Their friend, Rei, was running towards them, waving up a storm. "Haruka! Ami! I...I...I SAW...!" She staggered to a halt, put her hands on her knees, and tried not to faint. "I saw...I...I," she gasped out, her face turning the color of a three-day old bruise. Ami quickly saw that the black haired girl was in danger of passing out on the floor and tried to think of anything to keep her friend from talking and then suffocating. Needless to say, she got an idea.

"Rei, if you faint, I'll make Haruka do CPR."

That worked. Rei shut her mouth and breathed in through her nose in a deep, calming rhythm. Slowly, once her face had faded back into a color more like her original pallor and less like one of an exploding tomato, she straightened up and looked at Haruka.

"Haruka! I gotta tell you something! I saw--" Rei's violet eyes were suddenly drawn to the glaring dent in her locker. They narrowed in a mix of understanding and exasperation. "Wait a minute, why were you beating the crap out of my locker?" Haruka blinked in surprise and looked at the locker as if she had never noticed it before.

"This is _your_ locker?"

"Yes."

Haruka blinked again, in a trance of otherworldy surprise and shock. Ami had to smack her in the head to snap her out of it.

"Oh. Wait, why aren't you in Gym?"

Rei put her hands on her hips and gave Haruka her most patronizing look.

"Why aren't _you_?"

Haruka blew air out though her nose like a ticked off bull. Ami and Rei imagined her with a giant golden nose ring and had to fight back the laughter.

"Bite me, Rei."

"No thanks. Unlike you, I am not some rabid beast. Besides, I bet you would taste icky."

Haruka rolled her eyes and pouted, eyeing her hand thoughtfully. What did Rei know anyway? She probably tasted delicious! The blonde glanced back down at her hand again. After a minute, she gave into the desire and nibbled it.

"Hnn, I taste like pancakes. With syrup. Weird. When was the last time I had a frickin' pancake?"

"Blackberry or maple?" Ami asked unexpectedly.

"Blueberry."

Rei stuck out her tongue while Ami face-faulted behind her. "Haruka, this is no time for your silliness. I just saw something happen that might get you in a lot of trouble. So shut up before I forget what it is!" Rei proclaimed, pointing at the blonde like a detective accusing a criminal of heinous misdeeds. Haruka snorted and crossed her arms, but shut her mouth all the same.

"I saw Michiru run out the front door at breakneck speed. She's skipping, Haruka, but that's not the half of it." Rei paused for a minute, and when she spoke again her voice was much softer, much lower than it had been before. "I only got one look, but...I'm pretty confident that she was crying. And when I bumped into her, she almost fell down and _I_ nearly spun into a wall, she was going so fast. But even then, she just kept running like the devil was on her tail. When she reached the doors, she...she kicked them open, not even daring to slow down. Haruka, I don't know what happened to make her so upset, but Michiru is my friend too and I think that you need to talk with her. She trusts you."

No more words needed to be said. Rei had gotten the point across clear enough, but that didn't mean it stung any less. Ami was visibly upset, but she kept quiet. She knew that this was something Haruka needed to resolve on her own.

"Oh God."

"Oh, oh God."

Speaking more to herself than her companions, the racer looked down at her hands. Hands that had gripped the handles of a motorcycle. Had caught the photocard that had started this whole thing so skillfully. Had known the exquisite texture of Michiru's hair and face and skin. Fire rippled inside her heart as her chest contracted painfully. Visions of Michiru hurt, of her crying, of her suffering like when she passed out of that stupid "uppercrust" party exploded in her mind's eye. And it hurt. Oh, how it hurt. There was a rush of wind as Haruka shot past, a blur of sandy blonde, ruffling Rei's long black hair and sending the pages of Ami's book aflutter. Within seconds she had turned a corner and was out of sight. Ami watched her go, tears shimmering in her eyes, before turning back to Rei.

"Um, Rei? I love what Haruka is doing for Michiru, don't get me wrong, but I don't understand what you meant when you said that this would get Haruka in trouble."

Rei jerked a thumb at the spot where the track star had been a few minutes ago. "That's why. I've been watching those two, and I think that I've figured at least this out; if Michiru skips, Haruka skips. That blonde is just like a lovesick puppy."

A big and slow smirk lit up the miko's face and she leaned in closer to the genius and poked her forehead in a playful manner. "Speaking of "lovesick puppies", I hear tell that you had a little rendezous with a secret lover. Is that right?" Ami started gasping for air after two minutes of stuttering and babbling in a futile attempt to deny her friend's claims. She looked like a fish out of water, so Rei did the honorable thing by giving her a little push back into her depths. "State capitals, Ami! Go!" Instantly, Ami calmed down and began to recite with almost machine-like precision and creepiness.

"Montgomery! Juneau! Phoenix!"

"Preach it, sistah!"

"Little Rock! SACRAMENTO!"

"Aww, yeah!"


	11. Bouquet

It's still Sunday where I am! I haven't missed the deadline yet!

**Disclaimer; it still stands. Wowee.  
**

* * *

After ten minutes of nonstop sprinting (because she was too far away to do anything about having a goddamn _car_ by the time she realized that particular fact), Haruka staggered up the Kaioh residence's front steps and over to the door, raising her hand to knock. Just before her fist struck the wood she noticed that the door was already slightly ajar. Haruka raised both eyebrows. Michiru was not the kind of person to leave her door unlocked even under the best of circumstances, and in her right mind would most certainly not leave it open after just comitting truancy. Something was up. Taking a moment to catch her wind, she stepped inside. Her senses were instantly assaulted by music. Beautiful sounds that could only come from a violin, sounds that begged you to be rooted to the spot and revel in the pleasant, upbeat sounds reverberating in the otherwise-empty living room. But Haruka's ears picked up something twisted about the music. It was happy, yes, but it was the wrong _sort_ of happy. It was the exuberantly feel-good mood that was used in excess in order to cover up the substantially _less_ joyful feelings that lurked like a dark snake beneath the crushing sweetness. Everything was too damn _happy_ to be right. 

Therefore, something _had_ to be wrong, according to Haruka's Theory.

Professor Haruka followed the music as a bloodhound would a game trail. It led her to Michiru's room, and, feeling horribly unsurprised, she turned the knob and opened the door. As an afterthought, the racer rapped the painted wood with her knuckles. Blue-grey eyes fixated immediately on the figure sitting on the queen-sized bed, strumming along on a violin that must have cost more than a small car. Michiru's hands moved in flashes of satin white skin as she forced her instrument to sing out happiness that was not felt, not genuine. Something tugged at Haruka's heartstrings with freezing, clawed hands as she contemplated on how to break the tension that had sprung up like weeds between her and the aqua haired girl she adored. A hot wave of curiousity and confusion bubbled up inside and threatened to spill over. She wanted to ask so many things all of a sudden, yet she didn't really know how to phrase them into understandable and answerable questions..

"You skipped," was what she finally decided on. Haruka cringed at how blunt and senseless her words sounded almost before they were concieved; it had seemed like a good choice in her head. Simple, direct, to the point. But judging by the nerve-wracking pause in Michiru's empty melody, it had hit a little too close to home and little bit too hard. The other girl wondered if she could be in danger of choking on the foot she had wedged into her mouth.

"I know. It's nothing, Haruka. I was stupid. I'm sorry if I worried you."

The music went on. But now its notes wobbled and tripped over themselves as the hand controlling the bow became increasingly unsteady. It didn't matter how calm and even Michiru voice was; her body betrayed her in every possible way. Her shoulders were shaking slightly, every one of her muscles clenched into tense, locked bunches. The biggest sign was that she didn't use the nickname both of them attached so much importance to. It was a big, glaring siren that single-handedly unraveled her attempts before anything else could. Haruka was not fooled. In the days that had led up to this one, the track star had gained the power to know if something was bothering Michiru, if something was festering and eating her up from the inside like a parasite that bred on troubled thoughts and wounded feelings. And something was definately wrong now.

Haruka sighed and sat down behind Michiru. She wanted to wrap her arms around the other girl and smother her in kisses and melt away the misery and hurt plaguing her crush with the all the love in the track runner's heart. but she didn't. She wasn't ready for the confessions that would follow, and she probably never would be ready for the rejection she feared would follow after them.

"Michi, please tell me the truth. Something is wrong, or you wouldn't have skipped school. I know that you wouldn't unless it was important."

"I'm not lying. Nothing _is_ wrong."

"Michi, that is a fucking _lie_, screw my language to hell and back. I hate it that something's bothering you and you feel the need to hide it from me. I don't like seeing you in pain, and neither does Rei. Otherwise, she never would have told me that she saw you running away like a bat outta hell, _crying, _and urge me to make sure that things were okay. And likewise I wouldn't have done so, feeling scared to death that someone had hurt you in some way, if I didn't consider you my friend."

Haruka took a deep breath a she finished and began watching for the violinist's reaction to words that had burst out of her heart like a river through a broken dam. Michiru put down the violin, letting a merciful silence reign over the room.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean for you to skip school to follow me. I'm _sorry_. I didn't want you to get in trouble because of me. I'm...I...I'm so..Everything...it just..I mean..." Michiru's voice faltered, cracked, broke, before she gave in and whirled around to envelope Haruka in a sudden hug. Her hands gripped the back of the other girl's shirt with a desperate sort of ferocity, knuckles bone-white. She could smell sweat and shampoo, sweet fabric softener and a tinge of grass that mixed together with the faint, unmistakable lily aroma that was Haruka's natural perfume.

It brought back memories of the day Michiru had walked though a canyon on a whim of Nature; the howling of the wind as it flung itself against the towering, seemingly endless walls of limestone; hot gusts blowing across her face when it whipped through her hair, the strands billowing out and unfurling like a banner; her body and all its senses responding to the wind's wild call. The sense of exhilaration and peace, of both independence and unity that swallowed her as the breeze held her in its untamable embrace. Tears began to obscure her vision again. Michiru let out a whimper as she emptied out her pain in Haruka's willing arms. The sandy-blonde shivered pleasurably as she held Michiru like she always wanted to, taking in all of the girl's hurt and gave only her own kind of comfort in return.

"I..I'm really sorry, Ruka. It's just...stuff piled up and..I...I couldn't take it. I didn't mean to make you worry. I'm sorry, Ruka. I'm not usually like this."

The violinist drew away and promptly buried her face in her hands. The blonde saw that the tips of her ears were turning a bright red; a embarrassing symptom of shame. She should know, judging from the amount that Haruka herself experianced in her everyday life. Meanwhile, her crush had retreated into her shell like so many turtles did. Haruka sighed and gave the depressed Michiru an affectionate grin that she knew couldn't be seen, reaching out and gently ruffling the top of her head. "Hey now, it's all right. I don't regret trying to help a friend in their time of need. Besides," Haruka felt a new smile come on, a softer, secret one as Michiru peeked out from beneath her fingers. "I know so many less lucky than me. I have great friends, a good life, and something to strive for."

Michiru's hands had now fully retreated from her face, her sparkling sea-green eyes gazing at the racer. Her heart felt full to burst; she didn't know if it was safe to feel this lovesick.

"No point in going back to school now," Haruka stuck her tongue out at the thought, "so we might as well get started on our homework. What do you think?"

"Ruka?"

"Yeah, Michi?"

"I don't have my books.."

Instead of getting annoyed, Haruka just let out a lighthearted laugh. Michiru tilted her head at the sandy blonde in unintentional puppydog-confusion. "Well, I guess that makes two of us, then. Eh, don't worry about it. I can forge Ami's mom's signature pretty well. I can just write us excuses. What's the fancy word for a girl's cycle again?"

"Um, menustration?"

"Yeah, that's it. The perfect excuse. 'Dear Teacher So-and-So, my daughter's friends Haruka Tenoh and her friend Michiru Kaioh were set upon by cramps so utterly painful it rendered them unable to complete their homework. I can attest to that, as I am a doctor. Follow your doctor's orders. Signed, Mrs. Mizuno.'" Haruka stretched out on the bed and grinned to herself. "I love being a girl. Hell, I love just being me and getting away with it."

Michiru just shook her head, smiled, and curled up next to the devious blonde again. Haruka took it as agreement and snuggled against the violinist in return, occassionally breaking the companionable silence that followed to practice the contents of the fabled doctor's note out loud. Michiru soon took to hitting her with a pillow when this happened. The noisy intervals slowly petered out, as she knew they would.

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Thoughts of frustration buzzed within Makoto Kino's skull like wasps that had just had a fist-sized rock thrown at and tear a chunk out of their hive. She bit the end of her pencil as she studied the problems. Many looked lengthly. And difficult. Taking a closer look, the brunette began to mutter words that would make nuns faint and children explode. Damn that Math teacher and may she be forced to sponge-bathe Satan for all eternity. Shifting her glance to the other side of the room, she saw the blonde girl with the buns, Usagi, pick up the sheet and study it for a few minutes, then proceed to resoundly slam her head on her desk. She drew many surprised and confused stares before the onlookers remembered that this was _Usagi_ and went back to what they were doing.

Her companions on either side of her, the ones Ami had referred to as Rei and Minako, shot the tormented girl looks full of sympathy while clearly refraining from breaking out into laughter at her plight. Makoto rolled her eyes; Ami had told her how evil her friends could be to each other, those two in particular. A scowl tugged at the corners of her lips. If only she had Math third period instead of fourth! Then she could share this god awful class with Ami and make the frustration be a little more bearable. Makoto felt her heart give a light flutter at the thought of the bluenette, and bit several of her fingers to keep focused. Last thing she needed was to get distracted when facing a test that threatened to chew her up and spit her out like a wad of gum.

"Miss Kino?"

Makoto, brought out of her reverie at the sound of her name, lifted her head. "Yes, Mrs. Snoot?"

"Kindly illustrate and solve number five on the blackboard."

Thankful both for the reprieve and that she had been chosen to do a problem that she could actually solve with her _brain_ instead of divine intervention, Makoto walked up to the blackboard and picked up a fresh stick of chalk. It felt good and solid between her fingers. As she began her task, her mind began to wander. Would she see Ami today? They had already seen each other at the library during lunch, but for Makoto the doctor-to-be was like a drug, only not so obscene; once you got a taste, you got addicted. But it didn't come back and bite you in the ass when you got complacent. Her love didn't hurt you. Mostly. This whole ordeal with Ami's fear, well, Makoto understood that. She could deal with it. She could wait. But that didn't stop her heart from aching when she remembered that she couldn't hold the bluenette in public, or kiss her like she meant it.

"Miss Kino, little cartoon hearts are not part of a mathamatical formula."

The brunette blinked and looked at the blackboard and found she had indeed tacked on a bubbly heart at the end of her equation. Makoto groaned and rubbed out the offending drawing. It left a smudge on the board and a stain on her sleeve. The students began to quietly laugh among themselves. She stalked back to her seat and tried to slouch down out of sight. Her cheeks flamed. She made a note to herself to never daydream when writing on a blackboard, especially not when in front of a class that had a habit of erupting into giggles at the drop of a hat. Luckily for her, the bell took that moment to ring and deliver her from further embarrassment. Makoto scooted out of the classroom like a rabbit on fire. Eager to get home, the tall girl practically flew over the tiled floor and was soon at her locker.

To her great and happy surprise, Ami was already waiting for her.

Makoto moved forward to give her genius a welcoming kiss, then checked herself at the last minute and banged her head on the hard metal of her locker instead. Grumbling at her own stupidity and forgetfulness, the brunette rubbed the sore spot with one hand and shot Ami an apologetic look. The other girl's lips were crooked in a exasperated smile, her eyes tinged with affectionate concern, as she brushed away Makoto's hand and gently laid one of her own over the tender place. She knew what her lover had been attempting. She knew all of Makoto's tricks, and knew how to respond in kind. After a few pretend, yet equally careful touches, most of which were just an excuse to fiddle and play with the silky chocolate locks without anyone noticing, Ami pulled away. "No lasting damage," She said, sounding for all the world like the doctor she aspired to be giving a diagnosis. Only the wink she tacked on the end of the sentence gave her away.

"Good thing I've got a hard head, huh?" Makoto joked, selecting the books and binders she needed and placing them in her bulky green backpack. A tome of homework waited her at home, but in the light of Ami's presence it was a minor worry. Her apartment was also in need of a cleaning-up, and she would really have to move it now to get the ingredients she needed for dinner in time, but she found herself not caring about that. School was out, the sky was blue, and she was blissfully talking with the one person she loved more than anything else in the world.

Somehow, nothing seemed able to go wrong when Ami was at her side.


	12. Ivory

One of these days, I'll figure out how to convey my feelings of gratitude to the people who read this fic of mine into words. Until then, a sincere thank you to everyone. And I mean _everyone_.

**_Updated Thursday, December 7th_**

**_And, oh crap, I realized that I have a bunch of school work sneaking up on me and that updating is a no. Sorry everyone! I wish I could have given you all fair warning. Check back next week or so for an update...only got about three chapters left in this sucker!_**

**Disclaimer still stands.**

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It started with a mostly unnoticable, low-pitched growl. 

And then it grew into a rumble so loud Haruka thought that a mini-earthquake was erupting inside her left eardrum.

Still a little dazed, she blinked groggily and looked around. For a moment she could not remember where she was or even what she had been doing. Haruka looked down and saw purple sheets. She had slipped into a light doze on a stranger's bed, for how long henceforth unknown. A sweeping glance to her left rewarded that the time was a little after five, what the British would call "tea time". Or so the sandy blonde assumed, as she had never been out of Japan. It certainly _felt_ like time to sit down to have a cup of tea and ridiculously expensive cookies where one didn't satisfy and a hundred only made you fat.

And on her right lay a fallen angel. Exaggeration to some, but to Haruka it was what she was. Hair the color of lush, rich seaweed seemed to dance upon the dull violet of the sheets, ending in half-formed ringlets around a face poets would kill to be able to describe. Slender arms and milky-white hands lay limp as she slept, knees pulled up to her chest. Rays of sunlight fell on her body like a featherlight blanket. The mysterious sea nymph, the untouchable deity, let a perfectly crafted jaw hang open slightly. Haruka stared in fascination as drool began to collect in the corner of a mouth so kissable it hurt. Her mind was suddenly clear, her eyes bright and free of its former sleepy gaze. And when her brain had finally shifted into second gear did the goddess have a name.

Haruka let a fond expression cross over her face as she gazed at the sleeping Michiru. It was amazing how the stress and worry and hurt the violinist had felt earlier seemed to fall away, smoothing out until her face was one big mask of utter content. The blonde felt a silly urge to lie right back down and curl up against the sea green-haired girl again. She couldn't help it; Michiru drove her absolutely up-the-wall-crazy. It could sting, what she felt, and it could come back and bite her in the butt, but on the whole Haruka was happy to just be nearby the human who could pass for an angel. Haruka bit her lip, sighed blissfully, then stretched and felt the kinks in her joints pop, and was subconsciously aware that she had ruined the moment. There was another boom of gurgling thunder. It came from right beneath Michiru's dark magenta blouse. Haruka grinned in understanding and leaned over to tug lightly on the snoozer's earlobe. Under other circumstances she might have taken an exploratory nibble, but this moment was so innocently perfect she neither dared nor cared.

"Hungry, are we?"

Michiru's eyes fluttered open, blank and unresponsive until recognition stole over her and she smiled. She made half an attempt to swat Haruka's annoying hand away and let out a very polite little yawn that exposed perfect teeth. Her memory upon waking up was better than Haruka's; she made the other girl seem like a recipient of a disease that causes the victim to become prematurely senile in comparation.

"I guess. I didn't have lunch and, well, my hunting instincts are for coffee. Can you cook?"

Haruka fixed the violinist with a dead-serious stare, tone flat, face unsmiling.

"I'd burn water if I trusted myself near the stove."

Michiru just laughed, and Haruka laughed along with her. They had almost calmed down when their bellies gave a twin plaintive grumbling that succeeded in setting them both off into tangents of wild giggles. Neither could explain what was so funny, or why. It just _was_. Finally, Michiru had managed to regain enough breath to ask if Haruka minded sharing a pizza, since neither of them could work anything bigger than a toaster (which had resulted in some pretty close calls by itself) without blowing something up. Also, Michiru wasn't quite ready for the racer to leave her house just yet. She didn't know the method to this madness any more than she knew the cause of her spontaneous burst of laughter. Pizza delivery was on her speed-dial, and in no time at all the order of two supremes were placed and a tinny little voice was informing her that it would be a minium of fifteen minutes for it to reach the address given, ma'am.

Michiru snapped her phone shut, set it down, and looked at Haruka. She had been staring at the other girl before, but this was the first time she realized what she was doing. And miraculously, Michiru found that she could go right on staring forever and it wouldn't worry her a bit. The sudden desire, the idea, the question of Haruka sleeping over was never spoken aloud. And somehow, Michiru found herself not needing to offer an invitation. She had simply read the request in those handsome blue-grey eyes, so innocent and yearning that it sent a shock of sweet electricity down her spine. Affirmation must have been obvious in her eyes, because the track star's solemn face broke out in a child's delighted grin that changed quickly into one of nefarious amusement. Her devious mind had already figured out a way to kill time until the pizza arrived, as the violinist very well knew. Michiru covered her eyes with one arm in a dramatic fashion, as if to block out the image of Haruka's plotting, michievious face. "Oh, Jesus preserve us all."

A pause.

"No," she amended, "Jesus has nothing to do with you." A self-knowing smirk settled comfortably on the corners of Haruka's mouth, and Michiru thought for a second that she had actually seen two little horns peeking out from the mass of sandy blonde locks. Then a cushion sailed into her face and Michiru wondered what would happen if she slammed a pillow over the top of Haruka's head a few dozen times. The smile she wore as she thought about it quickly turned playfully evil, and Haruka took it as a cue to dive behind the couch and avoid a salvo of fluffy missiles.

0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

"I can't believe you want to do this."

"I didn't think you would."

"Your father will never let you do this. You need an adult's signature, for one--"

"I know he won't. That's why I asked for your permission instead of his. And you gave it, as I recall. The paperwork has already been signed. He can't do anything about it now, and quite frankly I don't care."

"You're too young. You have no idea how the world works."

"I know how the shrine works, and that's all I need to know."

"You'll be missing out on the best years of your life."

"By staying in the place of my childhood that has held so many wonderful memories for me? Is that really such a bad thing?"

The man behind the desk groaned and massaged his temples with two hands that had their own unique calligraphy of wrinkles. It had been a long and unpleasant day, and now it was winding down to an equally long and unpleasant night. He didn't want to sit here and bicker with his fireball of a granddaughter; he wanted to get out of this office, out of this rock-hard chair, take his old man pills, trudge up the stairs, and hit the sack. He grumbled and fiddled with the items on his desk to try and distract himself from the glaring problem in front of him. His thin, birdlike hands began to rearrange stacks of bills and offical letters telling him his subscripton was about to expire. _She wants to run the shrine._ They switched to mindlessly playing around with the stapler. _She wants to run the shrine when she gets out of college._ He ran a twitchy, agitated finger over the snowglobe on his right. _She wants to run the shrine when she gets out of college and when I'm in the ground and there's not one damned thing I can do about it. She's either getting too smart, or I'm getting too old. Yeah, probably that first one. _

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

"Of course. I've been wanting to do it for over four years."

"It'll be a big responsibility."

"I can handle it."

The grandfather clock in the hall struck ten in a maddening series of clangs and bangs. He would've gotten rid of it long ago, but it was a expensive and rather ugly family heirloom. Plus, it lured wandering eyes away from the crack in the plaster he had never gotten around to fixing, so it was somewhat tolerable.

"And are you sure you don't want to talk this through with your father?"

"He's never here unless it's absolutely necessary. He only calls when he feels like critcizing the way you live or how I act. He chose to take himself out of my life. I have nothing left to say to him."

The thunder in her flashing violet eyes expressed her anger and deep-ridden pain of being abandoned, forgotten, cast-away, much clearer than words could hope to. Her grandfather couldn't bring her back from the brink of a world where her father did not exist. It was futile to try. There were things--family, feelings, faith-- that shouldn't be messed with. And sadly, her father had gone and put his foot right in the center of those things, stamping down needlessly hard and grinding it all into the dirt like a playground bully. Rei would not take him back and call him "Dad' again. Not now, and not ever. 

"Water can wear away even stone, Rei."

His granddaughter had loved it when he gave out such cryptic advice to those who visited the shrine. She would laugh good-naturedly and ask if he actually believed that nonsense or if he had just been at the candle incense again. And he would give a slightly crooked grin (blame those damn dentist quacks and their jittery hands) and show his palms in a disarming way, offering no answer but the one she would find on her own. She would make up silly and childish answers to poke his neutral mask apart. When he eventually gave in and laughed along with her, they would go for a walk in the crisp fall evening, and at night the companionable two would stay up until the stars came out and the chill got to him and her and they would half-carry each other inside where she already had hot water ready on the stove, both agreeing that the cold was totally worth it. Now it seemed that if such happy times had existed, they lived on not in memories but between the pages of a storybook fairytale.

Rei paused at the door, and the effect was cruel. Her grandfather began to dare to hope that perhaps things were not as irrevocable as he had thought. Then Rei put her hand on the doorknob, and those hopes wilted like roses in winter. "Only after thousands of years, Grandfather," she muttered, just loud enough for him to hear. She stalked out the door and shut it with a slam that rattled the temple. It took the old man at the table several seconds to comprehend this before finally collapsing back into the hard and uncomfortable chair.

He realized that she had not called him "Grandpa", and that's what hurt the most. She had grown up without him noticing and had left him behind.

* * *

Bleh. Mo' drama for Rei, mo' fluff for Ruka and Michi. We are getting along to the final chapter. And after this...well...I don't know. 


	13. Heroes Rise Again

I've decided to pile the final chapters into one super long MEGA chapter! I apologize for the wait, again. A month. Seriously, a month. Or is it two? Three?! God, I am a failure as a human being. But hey, this chapter's over twenty-eight thousand words!...Please don't burn me, or stab me with those pretty pitchforks. I'm an endangered species too!

_**Some Notes From The Mofo Who Wrote This:**_ Haruka and Rei are really fun to write for. Ah, Within Temptation. It makes great battle-esque music. Umino sucks. Michiru makes a "yo momma" joke. DON'T EMAIL ME ABOUT IT.

**Disclaimer still stands...you psychos. Also, I neither own nor profit from "High School Never Ends". That is the prerogative of Bowling For Soup. Same goes for Deele and their song "Body Talk". SOUL TRAIN YEAH. And a little mention for Arcade Fire and "Rebellion (Lies)". Don't worry if you have no clue who these bands are. I am kinda weird!**

**_WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS ENOUGH FLUFF AND ANGST TO CHOKE A MAMMOTH. _  
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The sleepover, Haruka would later think, was like a roller coaster. 

The slight feeling of unease that would be there when the whole shebang began would peter out as it made it's slow, steady ascent. She, the sole passenger, would be preoccupied with the new view from her seat. (Perhaps she would commenting on how she could see her house from here.) Part of her was sure that the next second might be filled with screaming, nerve-wracking terror, and the gruesome fantasy of flying right off the tracks due to a malfunction of some sort. Yet another part of her was just as equally sure that the above wouldn't happen, that she would just be chugging along on the uphill slant forever. And then the madman conductor had decided to prove the former part of her right.

All it took was one girl and a pizza to hurl Haruka headfirst into a high-speed ride on the world's biggest upside down corkscrew. Mostly the girl, though.

It had started out innocently enough. They had ordered pizza, had a pillow-fight, and now lay in the center of Michiru's bed in a state of happy exhaustion. An hour had passed. Feathers slowly fluttered down all around them like some kind of bizarre heavenly miracle. "That was fun." Haruka commented. She took a deep breath and blew away a feather that was about to crash-land on her nose. "Although I wouldn't have thought that people still bought pillows with feathers in them." The racer gently deflected another feather, this one set to land on her forehead. Michiru shrugged and smiled.

"What can I say, my parents are strange."

Haruka rolled over on her side to reply and came into the path of another descending feather. It landed on her nose, fulfilling the mission that the first feather had not; make Haruka go cross-eyed and look funny. Michiru laughed and sat up. She suddenly frowned and rapped her temples with her knuckles. Haruka leaned over, head cocked to one side, puzzled. "What's wrong?"

Michiru shot her a half suspicious glance. "Promise you won't laugh?" The sandy blond nodded and crossed her legs, folding her hands in what she hoped to be the picture of seriousness. The effect was somewhat ruined by the feather still balanced precariously on her nose. She looked like the world's oddest guru. Michiru smiled and rolled her eyes. "I have a song stuck in my head. A really weird one, too." Haruka rolled her eyes and sighed dramatically. Knowing that the racer had been hoping it had been something juicier, Michiru shrugged and began humming the tune that plagued her brain. At that, Haruka's ears perked up. She grinned.

"Check out the popular kids, you'll never guess what Jessica did!" With that, Haruka reached over and gently honked Michiru's nose. No idea why, just that she felt like doing it. Michi sniffled, closed her eyes, and shook her head like a dog that just had something go up the wrong pipe. " How did Mary Kate lose all that weight? And Katie had a baby so I guess Tom's straight!" Haruka sang, enjoying the whole thing immensely. Michiru groaned and covered her ears. " And the only thing that matters is climbing up that social ladder,"

"No...take it away."

"Still care about your hair and the car you drive, doesn't matter if you're sixteen or thirty-five!"

"It's breaking through my exterior of pure sexy, Ruka. Halt your shenanigans."

"Serves you right for not having a exterior as sexy as mine."

Michiru rolled her eyes again, feeling those muscles wail in protest. "Ha ha ha. And ha. Now, I know you're kind to animals, so why don't you give that brain back to the baboon?" Haruka couldn't help but snicker. It died on her lips as Michiru happened to look past her at the clock and exclaim, "6:30? The pizza guy will be here soon! I'd better take a shower," as she hopped out of bed and dashed for the bathroom. Whether it was on purpose or merely an accident, Michiru's words sparked a flurry of perverted images that made Haruka have to take her first and second fingers, put them in a scissor-like gesture on her nose, and squeeze.

And squeeze.

And squeeze.

And keep right on squeezing.

When she finally felt that she was not going to spurt blood all over Michiru's nice bedsheets, Haruka looked around the room. There were a few pictures hanging on the wall that she hadn't noticed before. They were of a much younger Michiru, probably taken when she was in second or third grade. Looking at the adorable photograph child, Haruka could easily see how puberty would shape her into the sleek and sexy young woman she was in the present. She smiled, then shook the thought away as she got up to get a glass of water. After a few minutes of fumbling around in Michiru's giant kitchen, Haruka returned and sat back down to observe the photographs some more. Her parents were there too; her father on one side, her mother on the other. They each rested a hand on her underdeveloped shoulders. By some quirk of fate, the photo ended a few inches above their chins, cutting off their mouths and the rest of their heads and showing only the very bottom of their ears.

Haruka couldn't tell if they were smiling, or frowning, or what the color of their eyes were. It sort of frustrated the sandy blond; part of her had wanted to know which side of the family tree had given Michiru her strange, beautiful looks. She could tell that Mrs.Kaioh's hair was the same hue as her daughter's, but that was only from the stray locks falling down Mrs. Kaioh's ears as she stood beside and behind Michiru. Haruka guessed that she had put it up in a bun at the time the picture was taken. It was likely that Mrs. Kaioh also had the unusual aqua-ish eye color, but with the rest of her face cropped out of existence, there was no way to tell for sure.

The sound of running water in the nearby bathroom was suddenly replaced by the sound of dripping water. There was a rustling of clothing and the unmistakable sound of a towel moving over skin. The bathroom door opened. When Michiru walked in wearing an _obscenely_ lacy bra, miniskirt, panties, and not much else, Haruka found herself feeling much like how Mr. Kaioh had undoubtedly felt on his wedding night. A semi-naked beauty was standing before her. Haruka's thoughts went blank.

Wonderfully, blissfully blank.

She had most definitely just gotten out of the shower; the dry clothes clung to her frame like a second skin. She was drying her hair with a towel. Her flesh glistened, warm and shining and somehow not flushed at all. Even hot water, it seemed, could not do anything about the gleaming alabaster quality of her body. Haruka took a rapid sip of her drink and felt it come out her nose. She sputtered. Michiru quickly put down her towel and knelt next to the furiously snorting blond. "Ruka? Are you okay? Where does it hurt?" Although her tone was full of motherly concern, a brief twinkle in her eyes told that she knew exactly what had just happened and was quite proud of it. If Haruka had been looking her in the eye and not at the ceiling, she might have cottoned on quicker.

The violinist got very close to Haruka's face, pressing herself against the racer's body just-so that it expressed nothing but innocent intentions, but was enough to drive Haruka crazy where she sat. Her ears were red, eyes wide, chest heaving. _And what a nice chest it is indeed_, was what Michiru thought, but what she said was, "C'mon, Ruka. Where does it hurt? Stop being a macho man. I've got some band-aids in the bathroom if you need it!"

Michiru couldn't be happier. Haruka was in love with her, denial or not, and it was apparent that she would never go after some other girl instead of waiting for her crush to confess first. It was obvious that confessions were the racer's big problem, and the violinist knew that it would be ultimately unfair to both of them if she gave in first instead of forcing Haruka to get over that personal roadblock. Content with the pleasurable limbo they were in, Michiru would tease Haruka as much as she liked. Some part of her was aware that she had come to a similar conclusion much earlier in this devious little game, but she dismissed it and directed her attention instead at the hyperventilating racer. She was evil like that.

Haruka stumbled to her feet, forgetting that she was on a mattress, and fell over again. "Uh, well, I, see, um, I gotta call my mom. I mean, REI! I gotta call Rei! She probably thought I died or something. Yeah." After much initial fumbling, Haruka managed to work her cell phone out from the confines of her pocket. She gave Michiru a big fake smile and flipped open the top, only to let out a soft groan as she realized that she was holding Rei's phone instead. _Her_ desktop was a picture of her silver Ferrari. Rei's was a picture of herself flipping the bird. Haruka stared at the insulting photo a little while longer before flipping the phone shut and hitting herself on the head with it.

She had Rei's phone.

Which meant Rei was cell-phoneless.

Which meant no contact.

Dammit.

Stupid! Stupid stupid _stupid_! How could she have been so infantile as to forget to return the damn phone? Michiru calmly watched the racer curse herself out under her breath, knowing that it was something she would have to deal with alone. Michiru also thought about putting on more clothing, then dismissed the notion just as calmly. By now Haruka had taken out her own cell phone and looked back and forth from it to Rei's. Sighing, she realized what she would have to do. She could only hope that Ami knew the shrine's number, and that the shrine actually had a phone.

Shooting Michiru a here-goes-nothing look, Haruka flipped open her own phone and dialed Ami's number. There were three short rings, and then a click as the bluenette's phone picked up the signal. Faintly, Haruka could hear a conversation that she most likely wasn't meant to hear going on.

"Mmm, turn that damn thing off."

"Hee, I can't. It might be my mom."

Another click, this time as Ami presumably flipped her cell phone open. From the other end came a muffled, "Who is it, Ami?" Haruka pressed the phone very hard against her ear, suddenly certain that the second voice in the background was the mysterious person Ami had been running off with. A rather foxlike grin was creeping over her face despite her predicament. There was a pause, and then the sound of footsteps. Ami must have been walking away from whoever was there to serve as a distraction.

"Shh, you idiot! They can hear you!"

A very very faint chuckle from the other line.

"Sorry, lovebunny."

There was a brief silence in which Haruka imagined Ami blushing like mad. She had to fight very hard to keep from laughing. Soon, her entire body was shaking from the strain. "I told you to stop calling me that," the genius was heard muttering, forgetting for a minute that Haruka could quite possibly be listening to every single word she said. Then, louder, "Hello? Ami Mizuno speaking." There was a low mutter in the background and then a thump. Haruka guessed that her friend had thrown a pillow at her secret lovebunny. The thought sparked another fit of the giggles that Haruka had to bite back.

"...Hello?"

"Why, lovebunny, how could you forget me? It is I, your one and only Haruka! I call to ask a question and perhaps hear some more audio soft porn."

Another period of dead silence from the other line. Michiru looked at Haruka with a mixture of amusement and awe, forced to bite her finger to keep from laughing. Haruka grinned and tipped her a devilish wink. "How long have you been listening?" Ami whispered, mortified. Haruka grinned again, exposing almost all of her teeth.

"Since you were told to shut your damn phone off."

More silence. Finally, Haruka couldn't take it anymore and put her hand over the receiver. She had to let the laughter out or it would most surely kill her. Michiru gave in a little as well, bursting out in a series of mad giggles that refused to fade until Haruka had returned the phone to her ear.

"But, luckily for you, that's not the point here. Do you know the number to Rei's shrine?"

A grateful sigh from Ami. "Yes. Want me to patch you through?"

"That would be crackers, lovebunny."

"...You're very strange, Haruka."

"I know."

Then there was nothing but static and the dial tone as Ami began to connect Rei to their crazy, womanizing friend. A minute passed. Then five. Haruka pulled the phone away from her ear and made as if to fall asleep, even adding a fake dramatic snore that Minako Aino would have been proud of. As she was doing this, Ami finally managed to patch Rei through. The miko, upon encountering nothing but Haruka's snores, yelled into her own mouthpiece.

"HELLO?"

Haruka nearly dropped her phone. Scrambling for it and ignoring Michiru brief burst of laughter at her attempts, the track star pressed the phone to her ear. "Yo, Rei. How are you?"

"Pretty good, considering _someone_ forgot to return a _certain cell phone_ before running off to do naughty things in the moonlight, thank you very friggin' much."

"...Other than that?"

"Eh, I've been having some trouble. And no, it's not guy trouble."

Momentary silence.

"Or girl trouble."

Haruka shut her mouth with a snap, both annoyed and perplexed at how Rei had been able to read her mind a whole two miles or so away. "Well, you know I'm here if you need help."

"Nah, I kinda want this venture of mine to _succeed_. But thanks anyway."

"You're welcome."

There was more silence as Haruka tried to think of something to add to her sentence. She glanced over at the violinist, eyes requesting help. Michiru let out a polite little cough and looked away. Rolling her eyes, Haruka returned to her phone and listened to Rei's breathing.

"So, was there an actual point to this call, or did you just want to bug me?"

"Oh, but Rei-chan! Why annoy you over the phone when I can do it so much better at school?"

Haruka had to smile as her response was met with a dramatic sigh.

"Better yet, why annoy me at all?"

"Because it's fun?"

"...no."

"Yes."

"Goodbye, Ruka."

"Ah, don't hang up! I gotta kill time until the pizza guy gets here."

"What am I, your TiVo? Play Twister with Michiru or something."

The racer's eyes widened and she blushed, both at the idea of being in compromising position with her crush and the fact that Rei knew where she was.

"How did you-"

"I have my ways. Ja ne, Haru-chan."

"Don't call me Haru-chan!" Haruka snapped, then sighed as she realized that she was talking to a dead line. It figured that Rei would get the last word in like that. On the other hand, she had managed to assuage Rei's (nonexistent) worries and annoy her at the same time. Haruka smirked at her cleverness and placed the two cell phones on Michiru's bedside table. Glancing up at the object of her affections and her private source of angst, the sandy-blond raised an eyebrow and shot Michiru her trademark grin. "What do you wanna do next?"

The violinist tapped her chin and smiled playfully. "Well, I do have _one _thing we can do..."

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Ami Mizuno placed her cell phone on Makoto's kitchen table. She took a step back and stared at it for a minute. That Haruka. She smiled and rolled her eyes. So insane.

"Hey, lovebunny! Did you die in there?"

The genius' head snapped up at the young Kino's playful shout and she felt her heart skip a beat. Ami let a rare smirk cross her features as she walked back down the hall. She could think of another certain tall girl who was probably just as crazy as the racer, if not more. Honestly, it both frustrated and pleased Ami how one person could be so tactful and discreet half the time and so unbelievably crass and obvious the rest. She would not be much surprised if Haruka hadn't already figured everything out just from listening in for all of two minutes. Ami held back a grin and stepped into the living room.

"Everything come out okay?"

Ami raised an eyebrow and watched with amusement as Makoto tried to figure out if that meant a yes or a no.

"So, um, do you feel like watching some TV or something?" Makoto offered feebly from the couch in an attempt to break the silence, scratching the back of her head. After a few more minutes of Ami's deadpan stare, the brunette sighed. "I'm a horrible entertainer, I know. Don't give me that look." The other girl smiled and shook her head. The mere cuteness of the gesture had Makoto fighting back a blush.

She had to struggle with it even more as Ami sleepily walked over to her and clambered into her lap.

"Perhaps you are simply offering the wrong kind of entertainment."

The bluenette offered no further word of explanation. In fact, she just didn't say anything else at all. She only lay against the firm stomach and generous bosom of her lover and proceeded to snuggle like it was her lifelong duty. After giving Makoto's cheek a gentle nuzzle, Ami closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. Embarrassed and yet profoundly delighted, the tall girl wrapped her arms around the younger Mizuno and slowly rocked her. It was just like what her own mother had done before she passed away along with her husband.

However, Makoto was feeling too much at peace with the world to let the memory hurt, and after a space of ten minutes she glanced dreamily at the clock. It was barely 7:00, but Makoto never felt more ready for sleeping than she did right then. Cradling the small girl in her arms and beaming to beat the band, Makoto wandered down the short hallway to her apartment's single bedroom. She carefully laid Ami down, as not to wake her, and draped the covers over her body.

Makoto took a second to gaze fondly at the welcome addition to her bed. A sudden clap of thunder diverted her attention to the window, where rain was suddenly driving against the glass panes in violent sheets. Makoto was nonplussed; she had seen a fair amount of thunderstorms over the years. Normally she would take the time to watch the storm's progress from the other side of her window, but when Ami muttered and rolled over in her sleep, the brunette decided she had more pressing matters to attend to.

Makoto turned her back on the bruise-colored thunderheads outside and climbed under the covers. She was sleeping deeply by the time the storm had devolved into sparse flashes of lightning, echoes of thunder, and a light downpour of misty rain.

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"Just because I shake and party, and roll my sexy body, don't mean that I'm trying to tease."

Those were the words Michiru Kaioh belted out while pretending that the hairbrush in her hand was a microphone and that she was dancing like a loon on-stage in front of a sold-out crowd instead of from one end of her room to the next. The fact that her eyes were closed and R&B was pounding on the stereo hard enough to scare the neighbors did nothing to blow away her fantasy. On the bed, Haruka carried on with her headbanging, jumping around, and playing air guitar. In the midst of all this, she tried not to laugh as she added her throaty tenor to Michiru's soulful soprano to make a pretty godamned convincing Deele imitation.

"It's called body talk," The sea green-haired angel-for-hire sang, galvanizing herself into a series of mad struts. "It's not like the walk. 'Cause this time you're wearin' blue jeans." She spun around and did a backwards duckwalk past her queen-sized bed. Haruka took that moment to leap off the bed and onto the floor, resulting in a slightly embarrassing crash that shook the house. Grinning to beat the devil, Haruka pretended to pull off an absurdly impossible riff. Somehow, she managed to look like a badass instead of an idiot. Michiru shook her head, smiled, and danced past the rocking-out track star. "You rub your left leg slow, and let your body go, and do a little sexy scream."

"Jam, let's party out! Make your body sweat and shout! A visual sex machine," the two harmonized. Just as they finished, Haruka lifted her hands and slammed them down in the eternally awesome gesture of breaking the crap out of a guitar on the floor. Feeling the need to contribute something, Michiru flung away her hairbrush and winced as it nearly broke one of her bathroom mirrors. "Body talk. Talk body to me!" Haruka continued casually, offering one hand to Michiru. "Body talk, talk body to me."

She laughed softly and took it, and they set off. "You're lookin' real fine. You're workin' overtime. You're footloose and fancy free," the violinist sang as she wove her feet expertly around Haruka's, hips swaying to the old Soul Train kind of rhythm. Looking at her, it seemed almost possible to pronounce grace as a genetic trait. Around and around Michiru went, a twinkle in her eyes and a playful smirk never leaving the corners of her lips. Haruka just smiled as she matched her crush strut for stride, step for slide.

"Now it's all about the feel, 'cause now you know the deal," the sandy blonde added, spinning a little on the balls of her feet to put her right behind Michiru. Before any reaction could happen, Haruka had already taken hold of one of her hands and spun the unresisting other girl around into her arms. "So pump your body cross the floor. And put it in the groove, gonna make it real smooth," Haruka went on as she led Michiru across the room in typical tango fashion with their hands clasped together, arms outstretched. "And then you're gonna want some more!" Michiru laughed as the racer gathered her into a dive and then pulled her back up again, so hard that she had to break away from Haruka and sit down.

Trying not to laugh just as hard, if not harder, the taller girl flicked the stereo to a temporary mute state and sat beside Michiru, whose wild laughter was already fading into hopelessly cute bursts of giggles. "Woo, that was fun," Michiru chuckled, wiping away tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes. Haruka nodded matter 'o factly, took one look at the hairbrush lying forlorn in the bathroom, and broke down laughing. Which in turn set off Michiru again, and by the time they stopped the two were gasping for air. It was like they were deciding that asphyxiation was a suddenly a national pastime and should be practiced on a regular basis, or something.

They lay there for awhile regaining their wind. Haruka glanced over at Michiru and thought again about how much fun she was to be around. What a great friend she was. What a wonderful, beautiful, angelic person she was in general. Haruka smiled to herself, using one of the more gentle smiles she now saved for the exclusive opportunities of pining after Michiru. She knew she wasn't the most poetic crayon in the box, that her attempts at putting her feelings into words would forever be mediocre. Haruka decided that she didn't care about that. There had to be other ways. Taking a deep breath, the sandy blond closed her eyes and tried to conjure up a picture instead.

Nothing happened. Scowling, Haruka lifted her eyelids and glared sullenly at the ceiling.

"Every time you close your eyes, lies, lies," she muttered, and randomly thought of sunbeams. Michiru rolled over and looked at her with the expression of one who cannot believe what has just entered their ears. Haruka raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Are you singing Arcade Fire?"

"So what if I am?"

"That band is...is...there are no words to describe how weird that band is."

Haruka scowled and was just about to reply to that when the doorbell rang. Michiru sprang up. "Oh, the pizza's here! I'll go pay the guy." Before Haruka could stop her or even comment on how she was still wearing only a miniskirt and her undergarments, the violinist had flounced out the door and out of sight. Sighing and smiling at the same time, Haruka rolled herself off of the criminally-comfy bed and peeked out from behind the doorway.

Michiru was opening the front entrance door, offering the peeping blonde a generous view of her backside. Although she loved the Kaioh girl with all her heart, Haruka was only human. And at that second, her human side was screaming at her to both look and not look, to fantasize about smacking that bodacious ass and to abstain from thinking at all as thoughts were dangerous. It took several stern mental lectures but somehow, Haruka managed to focus on the Michiru-to-pizza guy interaction. She wiped away a small bit of drool without noticing she was doing so and reminded herself again to get intent about watching.

As Michiru smiled and nodded and played flirtatious grab-ass games with the pizza guy, her body manuvered itself into a, dare Haruka say it, _suggestive_ half-slouch. Michiru pretended not to notice her posture, but the pizza guy sure did. It was almost painfully clear what was running through his mind right now as he nodded and smiled dumbly. It took a lot of Haruka's restraint to keep from silently mocking his as-of-now deepest desire. Whether on purpose or by accident Haruka knew she would never know, but the seemingly _intended_ way in which one of Michiru's lacy black bra straps slipped off her shoulder was enough to incur forceful biting of a knuckle or two to stifle laughter.

The funny thing was that she was utterly calm at what the other girl was doing. She understood it enough to be unable to get jealous; Michi wanted a discount. Haruka found her methods to be both ingenious and amusing, but did she honestly think that she was better "supplied" than Haruka? As she was mulling this possibility over, a sultry wink from Michiru proved her suspicions correct. Not to be outdone, Haruka slipped back into the bedroom and ripped her own shirt wide open. Buttons flew everywhere. She ignored it and concentrated on making her hair look slept-in and ruffled. After checking her appearance in one of Michiru's mirrors and finding herself passing satisfactory, she walked back out to the living room.

"Michi...where did ya go? The bed's all cold." Haruka mumbled in the convincing tones of one half-awake. Stopping to theatrically yawn and stretch, she let her apparently sleepy gaze wander first to Michiru, then to the pizza guy, then back to Michiru. "Well well. I don't remember expecting company. Is he here to join us?"

The pizza guy's attention shifted from the voluptuous curves of Michiru to the arrival of Haruka with almost superhuman speed. Catching a mistaken eyeful of her short locks, he gulped at the sight of the track star. It was the big bad boyfriend, coming to rip off a leg or two for flirting with "his" girl. Oh boy. Oh jeez. Oh_ crap_. He wasn't particularly religious; he rarely prayed, considered himself "relapsed", and had never set foot in a church since his formative years. But at that moment in time the pizza guy found himself wondering if God would let him into Heaven for free pizza. Everyone loved pizza, right? Oh man, he hoped so.

His inner monologue lasted all of five seconds as his eyes gradually strayed south of Haruka's jawline, coming to rest on the ruined shirt, the missing buttons, the flashes of a lacy second skin hiding beneath it. The poor, pitiful pizza guy had only enough time for two thoughts: _She's a chick?_ _Dude, that's hot!_

And then he fainted.

Normal people would have called an ambulance for the pizza guy, or let him recuperate on their couch at the very least. Michiru was nonplussed. It wasn't the first time her in all her sexy might had resulted in or at least encouraged this type of reaction. With a smirk at the knowledge that he wouldn't be the last one to fall victim, Michiru knelt down and pulled the pizza box out from under its deliverer. It had, miraculously, not been crushed. At Haruka's perplexed expression, she simply raised one eyebrow. The violinist gently pushed the comatose pizza guy's hand off her porch with one foot and shut the door.

Humming a little tune under her breath like it was a totally normal night, Michiru walked back to her bedroom with the two cardboard boxes. Haruka stood there for a moment, then followed her. She hoped that the poor pizza guy would come to before the cold set in, but not enough that he would make them pay for the goods they had "liberated". However, her short attention span prevented her from caring anymore about the unnamed pizza guy as she sat down across from the scantily-clothed Michiru and began to devour the oven-baked saucy triangles of tastiness.

"Now Michiru," Haruka commented after two slices, eying the rest of the first box's contents with a smooth and practiced eye. The violinist looked up from her own slice at the sound of her name.

"Yes, Ruka?"

"I like pizza."

"Yes."

"And I like freebies."

Yes."

"And I like the fact that you do as well, but, dammit, I'm supposed to be the teasing one!"

Michiru snickered and all but inhaled her slice of cheesy cheese pizza. "You're not much better than me. I mean, seeing through my joke was one thing, but _playing along with it_? That's just cold." Haruka rolled her eyes and reached for another piece, her third that night.

"Colder than the arctic-tundra state of your _bed_?"

"Oh, was that supposed to be a diss? What _you_ need is a decent comeback. Or even better, a really good lay. Try your mom; her number's on the fridge."

"Jeez, and you call _me_ cold."

"That I do."

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Rei Hino pushed her chair away from the desk and heaved out a sigh. A pile of paperwork, each sheet neatly signed, lay in front of the young miko. Feeling stiff, Rei stood up and groaned softly as the limbs she had forsaken creaked rustily. Every limb except her right hand, apparently. Rei winced as the appendage throbbed dully, sending little volts of what felt like hot wires through the veins of her fingers and palm. The vicious pulse slowly smoothed out as Rei waved her hand and let the cramped, flushed skin get some air. Eventually, the muscles relaxed and their owner let out a grateful sigh. Of all the times Rei had heard her grandfather complain about keeping the shrine up and running, the occasions when the books had to be filed and re-organized had always warranted an extra-long period of sullen grouchiness.

Now, glaring at the source of her discomfort, Rei realized just how right he was.

She began to wonder if it had been a good idea to take over the shrine from her grandfather in the first place, then shook her head and looked out the window. With a jolt she realized how late it had gotten. The sky outside was already dark, the distant scattering of apartment lights absent from the stifling night landscape. It was so strange. Haruka couldn't have called all but five, ten, maybe even twenty minutes ago. It had undoubtedly only been around eight then. Or was it seven? Ravens cawed in the nearby trees, then fell silent. Violet eyes looking out towards the stars were suddenly jerked back towards the hallway as the ancient booming of the grandfather clock thundered Rei out of her reverie.

Chiding herself for daydreaming--who did she think she was, Usagi?--Rei dusted herself off and headed for her chambers. The paperwork was completed and in order. Anything that could have possibly been forgotten or overlooked could afford to wait until tomorrow. As she treaded over the carpet, Rei took care to walk with a minimum of noise. To get to her bedroom she would have to pass her grandfather's, and while the man was by no means a light sleeper he was most assuredly an old man. He deserved the opportunity of a good night's sleep. As she tiptoed stealthily by, a muffled snore erupted from within the elder Hino's quarters. She froze, then relaxed when she realized that she hadn't inadvertently woken her relative up. A gentle smile crept over Rei's face, a smile that would have made even her close friends wonder.

_He's so patient with me._

Still smiling, Rei slipped into her room and closed the door as softly as she could. Not bothering to remove her priestess garb, Rei opted instead for falling down onto her sleeping mat face-first. She hadn't realized just how fatigued one could get from sitting in a chair for hours on end. Rolling over onto her back, Rei scolded herself for sneaking back into her grandfather's study after the old man had gone to bed. She looked at the ceiling and blushed slightly as she recalled how shrewish she had been. Just because Grandfather had brought up her father gave her no right to get snappish with him. He was just raising a point. _What if_ her sire didn't approve? Rei scowled darkly and bit back a snarl.

Sire or not, family or not, Rei would never forgive the man who had left her to cry on her mother's tombstone. A thought occurred to her, disturbing enough to break her mind out of a slowly deepening haze of hurt and rage. What would her friends say? Rei buried her face into her pillow and mused over the concept. Part of her wanted all of them to know, but an equal part of her detested the idea of letting a single detail of her situation pass her lips. They deserved to know, that was true.

The young Hino knew without a doubt that they wouldn't judge her at all for what she had done. Makoto might even commend her on it, having lived alone long enough to have become a veritable master at self-sufficiency. Rei grinned at the thought. _She'd probably start imagining me as a mini-Mako._ Then again, the knowledge that her friends would worry about her and the burden she was undertaking made Rei uneasy. Apart from her grandfather, she wasn't used to having people really worry (much less care) about her.

Rei sighed again and closed her eyes. She was exhausted, and she had school tomorrow. Inner monologues would have to wait.

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The next day at school was a trying one. Though, to be fair, it had started out innocently enough, just like the sleepover had. Haruka had woken from her place on the couch (insisted upon by herself, of course; no need to force the two of them into an embarrassing position by sharing the bed). Her hair was tousled, she had slept in her clothes, and a shower sounded really excellent at that minute, but there was one need that held sway over all others. Quite simply, she had woken up hungry. The pangs drove her to Michiru's room with the hope that the beauty was already awake and that, if she wasn't, she wouldn't immediately kill Haruka for _making_ her be awake.

"Michiru? Michiru! Wake up! Michi!"

Opening her eyes blearily, the sea green-haired girl gave the apparently concerned blonde a groggy look. She didn't say anything, only lay there trying to recapture some of her departed sleep as she awaited the sandy blonde's answer. Her guest leaned close and peered at her with an expression of honest panic. "I'm hungry."

Damn that Haruka.

"Go eat a cookie." Michiru rolled over and pulled the covers over her head. Haruka flipped them back again, and the other girl groaned as the bright sunshine hit her smack in the face. Haruka then proceeded to poke the tortured violinist. Michiru tried her very best to escape, scooching away from the offending digits. It worked until she fell off the bed. Feeling victorious, Haruka leaned over her and grinned.

"Can we get breakfast now?"

The only answer she received was a sullen glare.

"I'll take that as a yes. Do you have any cereal?"

"I have Fruit Loops."

Haruka clapped her hands and stood back up. "Good. I feel like eating some gay cheerios." Throwing an amused glance at Michiru still sprawled out on the floor, she raised an eyebrow. "Shall I prepare some for you too?" The young Kaioh opened her mouth, about to mumble a refusal. "Or would you like me to just douse your kitchen in lighter fluid and light a match? Would save the time of, oh, trying to cook an egg or make some toast, as it'll end the same either way." Michiru suddenly looked contemplative. She glanced at the clock.

"Hmm, all right then. But don't waste any time; we gotta leave for school in fifteen minutes."

Haruka kept her word: by the time it was 8:25, the two had eaten, showered, dressed, and were enjoying a pleasant stroll on the way to school. It was a warm, breezy day, but Haruka was still too embarrassed to fully enjoy it. With every step she took she was reminded of how she had run off after Michiru and abandoned her beloved Ferrari in the school's parking lot. A small, paranoid part of her was screaming about vandalism, punks, and a metal pipe. Another part was moaning about burglars with shifty eyes and twitchy fingers. Yet another part was grumbling something along the lines of cops and traffic tickets and dented fenders. Haruka tried to get each individual part to shut up, knowing that at least Michiru seemed to be happy with the current arrangement.

The racer decided she could deal without her car for that morning.

"Well well, I was wondering when you two would show up."

Haruka lifted her eyes from the sidewalk in front of her to see Rei standing by the old oak tree in Mugen Gaken's front courtyards, crossing her arms and smirking like usual. She looked a little tired, a little older, but was undoubtedly the same firebrand miko Haruka knew so well. The racer stuck out her tongue and waved a greeting to Ami, who was most surprisingly sitting up in the branches. The genius peeked over her book and waved back, then returned to her reading without offering an explanation as to why she was up in the tree nor alluding as to how she got there. Haruka looked around and noticed that two certain blonde disasters were absent from sight.

"Where are Minako and Usagi?"

Rei shrugged and jerked a thumb at the school's entrance doors. "Usagi went inside with Mamoru about ten minutes before you arrived. As for Minako, well, she's busy stalking some stud from the volleyball team. I decided to, you know, not interfere, on the grounds of it being bad for my health."

"Ya think it was that serious?"

"The hearts in her eyes were the size of Mt. Fuji, so you tell me."

Haruka snorted. Michiru giggled, a melodic sound that caused the tall female at her side to blush suddenly and look away for a reason she knew but dared not contemplate for fear of nosebleeds. Rei watched the interaction with smug interest. Unnoticed by the others, Ami observed the racer and violinist with a knowing smile. Inwardly, both the miko and the bluenette were cheering. It was apparent that at least _some_ progress had been made when Haruka spent the night at the Kaioh residence. Remembering the reason why, Rei turned to Michiru and offered her a cautious, gentle smile.

"And what about you, Michiru? Are you feeling...better today?"

There was a silence as the beautiful young girl mused over on the question. Then a smile formed on her lips, and she directed it at the concerned Hino after a subtle glance at Haruka. It went unnoticed by the track star. Actaully, that was putting it lightly. It went so over Haruka's head that it shot into the stratosphere.

"Yes, I think so. Thank you, Rei."

Rei grinned and felt her worry melt away. She didn't like to show it, but she had taken a deep liking to the sea green-haired angel and was glad that whatever pain that had occured last afternoon had passed. One of the main reasons why she didn't convey this certain feeling aloud was mostly because she knew that Haruka would take it the wrong way and get all corporal punishment on her ass before she had a chance to properly explain herself. That, and it might make everything awkward. Rei wasn't very good at expressing her feelings very well for the people she liked. Look at Haruka and Usagi, for instance. And Ami. And God, don't even get her started on Minako. It might come out all wrong.

Now, Rei wasn't afraid of everyone thinking that she had a fling for the same sex, because the miko knew that she didn't. Women were very attractive creatures, yes, but enough time around them assured Rei that they would not make a good mate for her. She shrugged to herself. It was more about how she wanted to avoid stupid rumors than anything else. She had enough of them to deal with as it was. Most people just sucked like that.

A few minutes passed. Haruka was too busy being infatuated with Michiru to engage in their usual witty banter, and Michiru was too busy teasing Haruka to conspire and such with the young Hino. Feeling bored, Rei turned around and asked Ami what time it was. Ami glanced at her watch and proclaimed it to be 8:30. The bell would ring in two minutes. Rei was just about to offer climbing up the tree and helping her down when the bluenette closed her book, tucked it under one arm, and swung down using her free hand. Haruka and Rei gaped as she landed almost daintily on the ground. Michiru was more reserved and just offered an enigmatic smile.

"Damn, Ami. When did you develop upper body strength?" Haruka managed to say after a minute. Rei nodded.

"Yeah, Ami. You're built like a toothpick!" There was a mousy squeak as Rei poked Ami's side for evidence. The doctor-to-be slapped Rei's hands away, then had to do the same to Haruka's, as the sandy-blond was moving into position for a sneak attack.

"My lo...friend has been at me to lift a few weights at least once a day. I've been doing it for about a month now. It's not such a big deal."

Rei, Haruka, and Michiru exchanged mischievious fanged grins. None of them had missed Ami's near-slip up.

"Is that..._all_ your friend has been at you for, Ami?" Haruka asked slyly.

"Is this friend a..._special_ friend, Ami?" Rei chimed in, her violet eyes glittering devilishly.

"Has the exercise increased more than your..._strength_, Ami?" Michiru added with a playful wink.

"Huh duh buh wuh well no uh maybe er I mean yes um..." Ami sputtered as she blushed and held up her book in an attempt to ward off the teasing. Just then, the bell rang and prolonged the short girl's embarrassment until lunch. Never ended it, because once Rei, Michiru, and Haruka got you in their sights you were beyond salvation. Until they got bored, that is. As Ami made her escape, the other three followed behind at a much more relaxed pace. All of them were snickering.

"You know, we really are evil to her," Haruka admitted.

"But she knows we don't mean it," Rei reassured her friend, although both of them were still quite amused at the result of their antics.

"Besides, it's fun," Michiru finished, nodding. They were of one mind, like Huey, Dewie, and Louie, only female. And human. And much more sexier.

"Damn straight!" the three cheered in unison and entered the school. Once there, the trio spilt up. Haruka's locker was by the cafeteria, while Rei's was way over by the auditorium and Michiru's was near the library. The racer sighed happily as she worked her locker's combination lock. Last night had gone better than she could have expected, and today was starting off marvelously. Well, last night_ could_ have been highlighted by a teary confession followed by excessive make-outs, but what can you do? Haruka shrugged and took the textbooks she needed out of her locker and then slammed it shut and locked it. She would work her way nearer to that day, or night, inch by inch. Hell or high water, she _would_ tell Michiru how she felt.

Haruka began to whistle as she set off for her first class. But she wouldn't do it today._ Always the procrastinator_, her mind teased, but she ignored it.

For now.

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The bell had rung for second period. Haruka stood up from her desk and limbered up, then grabbed her stuff and scurried out the door, hoping to avoid most of the hallway traffic rush. Once she passed the stairs, a reasonable halfway point, Haruka shifted down into an easy-going amble. She was smiling. With one class down and three more to go, she still felt the enjoyable buzz from that morning. Haruka could only hope that it would last until her lunch time, which was in the middle of third period. So engrossed was the track star in her quiet happiness that she failed to hear the footsteps behind her.

"Are you Haruka Tenoh?"

Stopping short, the tall blonde looked over her shoulder at the sound of her name. One eyebrow cocked, she gave the stranger the once-over. He was short, dressed in a uniform that immediately classified him a freshman: black shirt with silver buttons up the front, and black pants and shoes. Haruka's clothing, for she also wore the male's uniform, was a maroon jacket and pants. The white undershirt and green tie she wore with it only further displayed the difference in their grades. The newbies (as Haruka liked to call them, although occasionally she slipped and said "nooblets") often dressed the same as they did when they were in middle school. As they got older, many of them shed their suits of nerdliness and matured into the clothing better fitting for the coming-out of their repressive shells.

Not him. His messy brown hair was short, his glasses thick. Haruka could barely tell the color of his pupils. Hell, she couldn't even make out if he had _eyes_. To say that he was merely on the geeky side would be incorrect; Ami Mizuno held a large monopoly over that end of the spectrum. _This_ boy was N-E-R-D personified. But the way his jaw was clenched and his eyebrows furrowed promised the blonde that he was serious and in no mood for dicking around. Turning around to look at him fully, Haruka crossed her arms and leaned against the wall. She was relatively near her second class and could afford to spend some time with the unknown freshman. "That's me. How may I help you?" she asked, looking him steadily in the eyes. Or in this case, in the glasses. He straightened them with one hand and then coughed.

"My name is Umino Gurio. I am a freshman."

Figured.

"I like to pride myself on being a 'know-it-all', as they call it. Yet, however, there is one thing that I do not know, and it pains me because it concerns a matter that I have the deepest yearning to explore and vertify. So, point-blank, what's the story with you and Michiru Kaioh?"

"What the hell is there to know about it?" She did not, even for a second, regret her immediate harsh tone. Haruka narrowed her eyes at him, if only slightly. She sensed danger here. Her wind was up,, feeling suddenly protective for the object of Umino's inquiry. But he only went on looking at her through his stupid swirly glasses. God, how she was beginning to hate those glasses.

"There should be enough to confirm or deny the rumors."

Her inner animal perked up at that. Rumors concerning either her or Michiru had never thus far reached her ears. Haruka carefully raised one neutral eyebrow, trying as hard as she could to conceal the curiosity Umino's statement had roused into life. His glasses must have had some kind of x-ray ability, though, because Umino saw through her wall of wary indifference like it was a sheaf of rice paper.

"There are those that say you love her, those that claim she loves _you_, and those that say it's blackmail, hormones, platonic friendship, a favor, a misunderstanding, a conspiracy, a debt, a lie. I just want to know what's what."

Haruka narrowed her eyes even more, putting on what she liked to call her Echidna glare. Haruka was also a major fan of Sega, but that wasn't important right now. "Well, boy howdy then. If you're so interested in bathroom gossip, why don't you ask Michiru herself what's going on?" At the very sound of her name Umino let out a sigh so lovesick, so utterly sappy Haruka felt her teeth beginning to rot in her head. He placed two hands on his chest, where his heart was presumed to reside, and the racer was suddenly overcome with the urge to vomit between her feet. Umino was a goddamn fanboy.

"Who are we, mere mortals, to speak to she not of this world? It is my only gift from the heavens to just look upon her etheral beauty, and perchance dream of when I will claim her, take her, charm her, of when she and I would become one." Umino cut the drama for a minute to turn deadly serious again. "Yes, I have thought about it. And the more I do, the most destined it sees. We are both intelligent, serious, decisive individuals. We both seek pleasures of a higher level, entertaining and enriching the mind. Also, she is an angel and I," He gestured to himself a little sadly and a lot dramatically, "a peasant. Is this not Fate? Is she not meant to be mine?"

Haruka snickered in the privacy of her own thoughts. _Sorry to say it, Umino, but I have a better chance of getting into her heart than you._ Suddenly she was sure that what she had on her hands here was not an annoying stalker, but a young man with a very heavy dose of infatuation. He was the type to leave unsigned bouqets of roses on a girl's doorstep, ring her doorbell, and then run away with a blush the size of Mt. Fuji on his face. In a way, Umino was a lot like her. Thinking about it, Haruka felt a little bad. But only a little, because experiance had taught her well the lesson of thinking twice about funny people. Every time you do it they seem a little _less_ funny, right up until they try to belt you in the mouth just as you think they might actually be sane.

"Now, I was rude to you before, and I'm sorry. Michiru _is_ a pretty beautiful and talented young woman. You seem like a smart kid, and maybe I can help you out. First, you gotta admit that you have a problem."

"A problem?"

"Yes."

"...What problem?"

"It starts with an 'I' and goes like 'N-F-A-T-U-A-T-I-O-N."

"Don't mess with me, Tenoh."

Haruka laughed. "Naw, seriously. Your problem is that you're too shy. I bet that if Michiru smiled at you, you would turn into a pile of goop." Umino paused, running this particular scenario through his head, and nodded. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." He blushed and nodded again. "And that, in this case, is wooing the fair maiden down from her clouds and into your arms, am I right?" Another blush. Another nod. Umino was following every word the other student said.

"Too bad I'm not gonna help you do that."

"_What_?"

"Umino, I'm a girl. An unusual one, yes, but even I retain some basic female instincts. If there's one thing I know, it's that taking blind advice from a near-stranger on how to win a girl's heart can be the worst screw-up you could ever hope to make. And I'll tell you why."

"No."

"Hmm?"

"NO! You're...you're trying to dissuade me from capturing her heart!"

"Umino-"

"I hate you!"

"I'm just trying to help-"

"Will you, nill you, Michiru will be mine! You cannot stop me, so just shut up Tenoh. "

"No, YOU shut up!"

You're just trying to get in the way, you bitter, jealous old maid!"

"I LOVE HER, you idiot! I couldn't get more in the way if I _tried_. But I'm really and truly trying to help you, so shut your mouth! Just shut it!" Haruka yelled, then clapped her hands to her mouth in horror and shock.

_Oh dear God sweet Jesus_ _no_. _NO NO NO NO NO!_

"No. Girls love guys. It doesn't work any other way," interuppted Umino, shaking his head stubbornly. Everything Haruka had said after her impromptu confession was lost on him. He tilted his head and although Haruka couldn't see his eyes, she knew he was sending her a look that was pitying, disappointed, disgusted, self-righteous, and infuriatingly smug.

She felt the mad urge to crush his stupidly thick, light-refracting lenses with one hand, snap the frame over her knee like a stick, and then stomp it into the fleshy area of his face. "You shouldn't force your one-sided, confused, _incorrect _feelings on her. It's unkind." Umino raised an eyebrow at Haruka's incredulous snorts of disbelief. "I take it you do not agree. Surprising, but not completely unexpected. Those who would defy destiny are notorious for never agreeing with the way of life." Pushing herself off from the wall, the blonde drew herself up to her full height. At almost six inches, she practically towered over the much shorter freshman. To his credit he did not tremble, and his feet were still firmly planted on the ground.

_NO NO NO! _

"You say you know-it-all, little freshman. If so, do tell me this, Umino Gurio; if loving guys is the normalcy for a girl, then what does loving Michiru with all of my heart make me? Am I a sin? A mistake? Tell me what you dare."

Umino studied Haruka's face for a minute, then slowly regressed into a cautious retreat. The bell rang. Neither of them heard it. As he backed off, the other boy gave her one last look through those unpenetratable glasses. "I don't know, Tenoh. You are an anomaly." With that, Umino turned and began to walk away. Once he had reached the stairs, the last words he said floated back to her in the empty hallway.

"Stay away from her. Michiru will love me."

_HE'LL TELL EVERYONE! _

Haruka growled to herself as he disappeared from view. "Keep your hands off her, Umino, or God help me I will not hesitate to mail every last piece back to your family in an envelope." She snarled in her softest, most dangerous tone. Her good mood from that morning had evaporated, leaving more than enough room for rage. The sandy blonde rolled one hand into a fist and slammed it against the wall. It left a small crater when she brought it away. "That's a promise." Still snarling threats and curses under her breath, Haruka spun around and all but stomped into her second period class, silencing the teacher's protect that she was late with a ferocious glare.

_Gonna throw a temper tantrum instead of focusing on the bigger picture? That's it? Fine, you thick-headed moron. You're on your own. Damn racers. They always have the wildest hearts...  
_

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Michiru looked up sharply as Haruka slammed her textbooks down and plunked herself into a seat across from her, looking like someone had just shot her cat. On the whole, her reaction was probably the most controlled of them all. Usagi and Minako let out twin screams of surprised fright that died instantly when the racer shot them a death glare. Ami gasped and hid behind her textbook. Rei winced and did the same, although her textbook was upside down. Haruka ignored them all and laid her forehead on the table. Her hands were balled into fists at her side.

It had been all of an hour since the confrontation with Umino, and his words still stung. The sheer impunity of the teenager was maddening in itself. Michiru was not a piece of property. She couldn't be claimed or some other such nonsense. It was blasphemy. Amid the rest of her turbulent feelings, a nagging sense of shame lingered. She had already met too many and had been hurt by too many people to not know their kind when she saw it. It clung to them like the sickly stench of death. Why didn't she see it? Why didn't she see it and ignore him? Those words he had spoken, so overweighted with pride that it was surprising how they ever managed to fall out of his mouth, served as proof. Haruka growled again and fought the urge to blame herself. Looks were made to be deceiving.

Though Haruka loathed to admit it, Michiru was no angel either. She was near, damn near, but even the young Kaioh had a few flaws. Haruka found it disturbing how completely obsessed Umino was with the violinist. First it had been amusing; now the sandy-blonde wondered if the nerdish student's fixation was approaching a dangerous level. Haruka huffed at the memory and sat up. It was lunchtime, but she found herself unable to eat anything with the pit of anger and disgust boiling in her stomach. If anything happened to Michiru, Haruka would...she would...

She would cry like a lost child. There was no point in denying it. Sighing, Haruka glanced over at the others and attempted to smile apologetically. It must have worked, because they relaxed and wenn back to chatting amongst themselves. They didn't try to ask her what was wrong. They knew she would simply deflect their questions and besides, all were eager to prod Haruka and Michiru's relationship along. The sandy-blonde felt Michiru's eyes on her and knew that the violinist was wondering what had happened. The almost overwhelming need to cry took Haruka by surprise. Michiru wanted to know what was wrong; she wanted to help Haruka.

The racer took a deep breath and looked up, steeling herself for the sight of troubled aquamarine eyes. But her own eyes were treacherous, and in the face of her emotional upheaval, she looked just past Michiru and was met with a very different vision. Across the way sat Umino, three table lengths seperating the two enemies. Michiru's eyes widened as Haruka began to growl uncontrollably and glare over her shoulder. Ami, Usagi, Minako, and Michiru all looked for the source of their friend's agitation. Rei was too busy trying to keep Haruka in her seat, and the track star was trying just as hard to stand up, walk over to Umino's table, and punch his face in. Only she knew those explicit details, but it didn't take much for the others to see that Haruka had danger on her mind.

Three sets of blue eyes and one of aqua eventually settled on Umino, who had drawn his mouth into a fanged grimace and was sneering a challenge at his rival. A curt nod from Haruka vertified their suspicions. As one person, Ami, Minako, Usagi, and Michiru turned around and began to consciously shun the anonymous fomenter. After many worried punches from Rei and much soothing from the rest, Haruka slowly calmed down and dropped her eyes.

"I...I'm sorry guys. I didn't plan to lose it like that."

The shame-faced tall girl was surprised by a gentle squeeze from behind, courtesy of Usagi. Rei caught on and leaned over to hug Haruka from the right. Ami followed their lead from the left. Minako wedged herself between her counterpart blonde and the miko, laying her chin on Haruka's shoulder. Michiru, seeing no room for her to add an embrace of her own, took her crush's hands in her own and held them. After a minute, Haruka worked out a smile. "Thanks, everyone. I needed that." Slowly the others drifted back to their seats, although Michiru still clasped her Ruka's hands, secretly hoping that the other girl still needed a little more comfort.

"Do you mind if I ask what that was all about?" Rei questioned, always the blunt one. Haruka looked away, contemplating. She wanted to kiss and tell and reveal Umino's true nasty nature, but she was afraid. She was both afraid and paranoid that when they learned about how she had blown up at the vexing Gurio, her feelings about Michiru would come into the light. It wasn't that she was ashamed of it. Haruka would rather die than say she was ashamed of the girl she loved, if only secretly. It was more the knowledge that Michiru would figure it all out that scared Haruka. She wasn't ready to confess yet. It was too soon, too sudden. It wasn't the right moment. Haruka knew that one day she would have to stop putting it off, but something told her that now was a really bad time to do so.

She could lose it all.

"That guy and me, we have an issue with each other," Haruka said carefully, sticking as closely to name, number, and serial code as she could. "I don't really want to say what the issue is..." At this, Haruka suceeded in only further intriguing the others. Michiru and Rei had enough grace to hide it, and Minako and Ami tried their best to conceal it as well, but Usagi just flat-out stared at Haruka and her frugal sentences. It wasn't enough for the blonde; she needed gossip like a fish needed water. Usagi knew that asking would be rude, but the words tumbled out of her mouth before she could hold them back.

"What is it?"

Everyone rolled their eyes. Haruka just smiled, much to Usagi's relief. Seeing the young Tenoh angry was not a sight Usagi wanted to see more than once a day, at the most. Haruka thought over Usagi's question, wondering how to phrase her reply. True, she didn't really want to answer it, but Haruka realized that none of her friends would be satisfied with her earlier try at an explanation. Either way, they deserved to know, if nothing else, a little bit more. The sandy-blonde owed them that much. Haruka looked at the ceiling and continued to muse.

"Well, he and I disagreed on how to charm this lady," she decided, then paused. "I guess I must be more popular than I thought if random strangers solicit me for love advice." The others couldn't help but laugh at that. Haruka inwardly grinned as they relaxed. It would make everything so much easier. "He had all these crazy notions about how to do it rolling around in his head, and when I tried to offer a suggestion or two, he blew up at me. One thing led to another and pretty soon we were both arguing with each other. Things were said that really shouldn't have been said, and now I think it's irreversible. I see him, he sees me, and we both see red." Haruka let out a genuine sigh. She wanted to say more, but realized that this was probably the best half-truth she could get away with.

"Wow, man, that sucks." Rei said, shaking her head. Minako and Ami did the same, although silently. Usagi shot Haruka a suspicious look, knowing that there was more to the story, but nodded as well. She wasn't alone in not completely believing the track star, nor was she the only one who smiled and nodded anyway. Michiru fixated her aquamarine eyes on Haruka's face and thought about what she had said. Who was this lady, this source of all the trouble? The violinist did not bother wondering if it was some other love interest; she knew Haruka too well for that. Instead, Michiru pondered if the woman in question was her. It was an unsurprising, yet slightly disconcerting thought. The young Kaioh decided to simply keep an eye on things and see how they progressed, and prepare herself for at least some kind of upheaval.

Then the bell rang to end lunch, and everyone rose to depart for their individual courses. Haruka waved a tired goodbye as she walked off to her third period, the burden upon her heart lightened but not gone.

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"Oh...fudgesticks."

Makoto looked up sharply, startled out of her haze. It was the five-minute interlude between third and fourth periods, when students took the opportunity to get the necessary suppiles out of their lockers, use the restroom, or do a quick bit of socializing. She was doing the former; exchanging her now-useless science book for one of history. Ami had kept her company as she did so, since Makoto's locker was on the way to the bluenette's english class. The tall girl had let herself indulge in a rare daydream, remembering the snuggly happiness of the previous night. Makoto had been grinning as her mind recalled the pleasant morning that had followed. She had prepared an egg breakfast for the two of them, and Ami had been having trouble getting the last piece of it onto her fork, resulting in her having to chase it around her plate with her eating utensil and succumbing to adorable childish frustration.

Now Ami was standing stock-still, looking like someone who just realized that they had left the house with the door unlocked, the stove on, and the tub overflowing all at once. Makoto shut and secured her locker without even glancing at it. She was too caught up in looking confusedly and a little worriedly at Ami.

"What's wrong?"

"I just realized that I forgot to finish my monthly essay. What am I going to do?" Ami ran a frustrated hand through her short blue bangs and sighed in frustration. "Aghh, I left the floppy disk in my first period class. There's no way I can get to it now. It's worth twenty five percent of my final grade too." The genius smacked herself in the forehead and continued to berate herself. "How could it have slipped my mind until now? Honestly, I must be the biggest nincompoop alive."

Makoto smiled and rested a hand on Ami's shoulder. She looked up at the brunette with gentle surprise. "Hey, Ami, relax. I'll go with you after school to get it back. It's already finished, right?" At the shorter girl's nod of affirmation, Makoto punched the air with her fist. "It's settled then! I'll meet you at your locker when fourth period's over." Ami smiled and bowed her head.

"Thanks Makoto. It means a lot to me that you're willing to put up my silliness..." Makoto frowned slightly and ruffled Ami's hair. She wished with all her might that she could kiss the young Mizuno; so much more could be conveyed through capturing her mouth with Makoto's own. But she knew that Ami wasn't ready to be open in public, and Makoto had sworn to both herself and her lover that she would respect those insecurities and wait. Yet sometimes the young Kino wished just as hard that Ami wouldn't be so brutal on herself. She wasn't perfect, but she _was_ a talented, intelligent, caring young lady. If only she could see it!

"Sorry to break it to you, but when it comes to absurdity, Usagi's got you beat."

Ami both reddened and smiled at that. They gazed at each other for a minute, before Makoto's watch beeped and the brunette leapt about a foot in the air. "Aw snap! I'm late! Later, Ami!" The other girl watched with a mixture of both love and exasperation as the emerald-eyed teenager blasted off like a streak of green lightning, bowling many students over in her haste. Ami smiled, wiped away a threatening tear, and hurried to her own class.

_One day, Makoto. I promise. I won't hide you away any more._

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Umino sat plotting in the last row of his history class. Or at least, that's what he would be doing if his traitorous eyes would stop pulling his attention to the back of Michiru Kaioh's head, three rows away. He wanted her, wanted her like nothing he had ever wanted before. It was so hard to concentrate on how to shove Haruka Tenoh out of the picture when such a beautiful creature was nearby. Umino had to bite his lip to keep from growling; Haruka. The mere mention of her name was enough to fill him with near-uncontrollable rage. He had not been blind in that cafeteria. He had seen how Haruka had turned all her friends against him, had even tried to get up and inflict bodily harm on him, and had received hugs and fond looks for her violent behavior.

It made Umino sick, but what made him really angry was how Michiru had looked at him.

Even from three tables away, Umino hadn't missed the glimmer of distaste in the beauty's eyes. Instinctively, at that moment, he knew what must have happened. Haruka had gotten to her first. Polluted her. Defiled her. Umino dropped his gaze to glare a hole in his desk, imagining all the twisted lies the racer must have told the young Kaioh. Now she was against him. They were all against him! Umino closed his eyes and thought how to rectify the problem, trusting his mind to the job. He could get a high score on a math test without really trying; a solution to his social problems shouldn't be any harder to find.

He had to get rid of Haruka.

Umino's eyes snapped open. He grinned. It was a disturbing, sinister expression. Take out Haruka; it was ingenious. She was the cancer upon his life, the theif, the liar, the rogue who pulled the wool over Michiru's eyes and ripped her heart from Umino's grasp. If she was gone, then the fair violinist would be whole and innocent again. She would be grateful for his efforts and marvel as to why she never saw it sooner. Haruka was a stain to be scrubbed out. She was a bug to squashed. She was a tumor of the heart, soul, body and mind that needed to be removed. Umino thought himself well suited to the task of surgery. He would do it. Oh yes, he would do it. Tonight if he could. No, he _would_ do it tonight.

But how?

The obsessive teenager hummed a little tune as his brain began to steadily work out a plan. Where was answered; he would do it right here, in this school that was loved so much because it was a hall of memories, a site of nostalgia, a place where you could return and feel like you were a high schooler again even if you had a job and your hair was tinted with grey. Umino smirked to himself. Who and why was already answered. They had been answered in the most detail of them all. Umino leaned back a little in his chair, gazed at the ceiling, and thought. Mugen Gaken was an old school. Perhaps he could use it to his advantage. He paused in his thinking for a moment, feeling his mind spark that which might have been an idea. Umino tapped his chin, looked at the ceiling again, then nodded. _That_ would work. He knew where to get the suppiles for it.

Again, Umino glared at his desk, deep in thought. He would have to lure Haruka into his trap. It frustrated him to know that his scheme wouldn't be ready until after she had already left the school, but Umino knew it couldn't be helped. Haruka was the fish he aimed to catch, and to catch a fish you needed bait. She may have been a conniving, disgusting brute, but Umino had to admit that the sandy blonde's weakness was her friends. Would she die for them? Would she place herself in danger for them? Yes, Umino decided, yes she would. The short male rubbed his temples. But who? Not Michiru, of course. What Umino was planning would put her in too much danger. It was too risky. As much as he loved Michiru and hated Haruka, he did not want to get rid of one and then lose the other in the same way.

_It was too risky_. Umino crossed her name off the list and continued to muse.

That left one of the other four who had shunned him at lunch. Umino quickly put a big red mental X next to Rei Hino's name. The miko's temper and cunning was well know throughout the school, the former a little more so than the latter. She would undoubtably see through his plot and ruin everything. He did the same for Minako Aino and Usagi Tsuskino. Whether apart or together, they each had enough of a ditz in them to be a cause for worry. If left to their own devices, Umino knew that they could very well be the random monkey wrench that ultimately broke the machine. That left Ami Mizuno. Umino knew of the genius, although not personally. She was highly intelligent, but she was also innocent. Rei's intellect was heavily supplemented with a strong instinct, a sense adapt at telling her if something was wrong. Ami was free, oh so blissfully free of that.

The young Gurio nodded to himself; Ami Mizuno it would be.

It would have been scary to anyone who had known that what the young male was planning was taking shape with such rapid progression. Racking his memory, Umino tried to think of a way to bait his bait. With a delighted smirk, he realized that he didn't have to.

That morning, after second period and on the way to third, he had stopped by the computer room to ask the teacher what kinds of disks were compatible with his Windows XP and which ones had the best storage capacity for music files and stuff like that. Umino would've sworn on his mother's grave, had she been dead, that the teacher had asked him if he had Ami Mizuno in any of his classes. The teacher had been holding a disk in his hand, one of those floppies. Umino had said no, he didn't, and the teacher had looked fit to be tied.

Umino was more than sure it was all about a very important project, despite never having taken a computer class. Even if _that_ wasn't correct, the disk was still something vital for the genius. Ami Mizuno would most assuredly return for it, provided that she had not already. Thinking it over, Umino decided that the first step of his plan would be to lie in wait near the computer room. If Ami showed up seeking the disk, he could move on with the second step. If she didn't and proved his suspicions correct, then he would think of some other way to get Haruka to hurry to her own demise. Umino grinned again and congradulated himself. Even if somehow, someway the damage done to Michiru was irreversible, if she still refused to love him like she should, then at the very least Haruka would be gone.

Umino bent down and began to madly scribble down the finer points of his plan, all the while leering with delight like a drunken loon.

Meanwhile, Michiru sighed and plunked her forehead down on her desk. Her history teacher had managed to babble nonstop for the last ten minutes and _still fail_ to keep anyone's attention. If she had witnessed the whole thing from some comfortably remote location, she might have found it funny. Instead, Michiru found it incredibly boring. The young Kaioh wondered if it was possible to feel your brain seep out of your ears. Raising her head lest he call on her, Michiru concentrated on the space of blackboard just above and to the right of her teacher's head. Perhaps if he thought she was paying attention, he would fast forward through all his nonsense and get to the part that would actually benefit her.

She refused to look at the clock just yet, believing that every minute she delayed in doing so put her one more minute closer to freedom. Michiru began to absent-mindedly play with her pencil. She held it by it's tip in one hand, then flipped it up into the air, and caught it before it fell. Once. Twice. Three times, never missing. Michiru kept one ear cocked to what the teacher was saying in case he tried to claim her as his next victim. Feeling mildly less brain-dead, she began to balance the pencil on her nose.

"And so, class, that is why the Soviet Union failed. Would anyone like to recap some points of the lesson? Ah, how about you, Missus Kaioh? Who was the Russian dictator at the time of Word War 2?"

Michiru kept her head tilted back, calmly watching her pencil as it tipped from one side of her nose to the other. "Joseph Stalin, who, in the course of his reign, killed all who opposed or resisted him." She paused to nudge her pencil over to the right a little bit. "He also tried to rewrite history to excuse, justify, or extol all his crimes. Any other madmen you'd like me to cover, sir, or will this be all?"

The teacher looked flustered. He hadn't thought that Michiru had been listening. He hadn't thought that _any_ of his student had been listening. "Er, well, no. Thank you, Missus Kaioh."

Michiru waved a hand dismissively, then muttered under her breath as the motion jarred her pencil from its place of balance. It bounced onto her desk then rolled off the edge. The violinist was saved the trouble of retrieving it by the loud clamoring of the final bell. School was out. Class dismissed. Michiru remained seated, watching her teacher get almost trampled by the horde of exiting students. A smile with just a trace of smugness danced around the corner of her mouth. In public, Michiru rarely laughed aloud. Once the classroom was comfotably empty, she gathered up all her folders and walked casually out the door. Turning right, she encountered Haruka leaning against the wall. She had been waiting for her there.

"Hello there, Ruka. Any plans for tonight?" Michiru asked genially as she kept walking, Haruka falling into step beside her.

"I thought we could watch a movie or something over at your house, if you've got nothing else planned."

"That sounds all right to me, Ruka, but why my house? Do your parents have issues with you bringing home strange girls?"

Haruka snorted. "Nah. Ya see, this would be my parent's reaction if you went over to my house." The sandy blonde clasped her hands together and slapped a silly expression on her face. "Oh mah stahs and gahtahs! Iffun it ain't the Meesus Mee-chee-roo Kye-Oh that we've been hearin' so much about! Now dahling, come in and make yo'self cumfertable! Haruka, baybeh, get this purty young thang some watah. Her lil' weendpahpe must be h'absolutely dry bah now!" Haruka slipped out of her horrible attempt at mock-country slang and shook her head in exasperation.

"They'd start fawning over you so much it would take a gladiator battle just to pry you away. I don't really feel like cleaning up the blood stains and all that. I mean, I'd have to hire a whole platoon of young, nubile maids...in frilly...aprons...and silly hats..." Haruka trailed off as her mind conjured up an image to fit her words. There was an awkward silence that stretched until the track star caught sight of Rei and let out a very vocalized greeting. The miko glanced at Haruka casually and waved a hello to her and Michiru.

"Rei Rei Rei Rei Rei Rei Rei Rei...!" The young Tenoh chanted, trying to get Rei to pay her the proper amount of attention.

"What, Haruka?"

"Hino Hino Hino Hino Hino-"

"I'm listening, you daft bugger!" Rei snapped, raising her voice to be heard over the never ending cycle of her last name. Haruka was silenced, but only for a moment.

"Do you want to watch a movie with us at Michiru's house?"

"No."

Haruka stuck out her lower lip and kept walking, mulling over this new and unexpected obstacle. As the three girls progressed down the hallway, they bumped into a solitary Ami. She was standing by her locker, watching the river of students flow around the corner and out of the building. The racer suddenly ran over to Ami, looking comically relieved. "Oh thank God, Ami! Do you want to come over and watch a movie with me and Michiru?" Haruka paused to shoot a dark glare at the miko, who smirked and stuck out her tongue. "Rei's being a fuddy-duddy _square_ and doesn't wanna go with us. Come along!" Rei rolled her eyes and snorted indignantly.

"If I'm a fuddy-duddy square, you're a senile old hag."

Haruka smiled ingratiatingly as she turned to the young Hino. "If I'm a senile old hag, you're a punkass little bitch, Rei. I'm sorry to say it though. Perhaps your grandpa could've broken the news to you better. What do you think? Should he have done it after the third or the fourth jail breakout?"

Rei narrowed her eyes, but kept grinning profusely. Ami and Michiru watched, torn between intervening and laughing. "This punkass little bitch can kick your ancient hindquarters, providing you don't fall down and bust your hip first."

"Like to see ya try it, greenhorn. Try not to trip over your shoelaces when you do."

"At least I can get dressed in the morning without assistance from live-at-home nurses. OH! WHAT NOW, OLD WOMAN?"

"COME OVER HERE AND SAY THAT, HOODLUM!"

"I'd love to join you guys, but I'm meeting...er...someone here." Ami finally jumped in, hoping to end the playful banter that was quickly becoming decidedly _un_-playful before it exploded into a full blown catfight.

Haruka pouted and crossed her arms, but gave up surprisingly easily now that she had been distracted from her argument with Rei. "Well, all right then Ami. If it's that important to you, it's important to me. But promise me," the racer playfully ruffled the genius's hair, invoking a brief wave of deja vu in her, "you'll let me meet this mysterious 'someone' eventually, okay? I wanna get a good look at the knight who managed to capture your heart." Haruka grinned and tipped Ami an extravangant wink. "Heroes like that don't come along every day, you know."

Ami smiled and nodded, brushing her friend's hand away. "It's a promise, Haru-chan." She watched, her smile approaching a grin, as Haruka wrinkled her nose in mock-disgust.

"Watch out. You're getting more and more like Rei every day." The sandy blonde let out a yelp as she received a not-so-friendly smack upside the head from the miko, forgetting that she was within both earshot and hitting range. Ignoring Ami's giggles and Rei's smirk of triumph, Haruka rubbed her arm. "I guess we'll have to keep you home and quarantine your house," she couldn't resist adding. Haruka yelped again as Rei subsequently added another bruise to her aching arm. Scowling, Haruka waved a goodbye to Ami, shifted the weight of her backpack around more evenly, and left. Rei and Michiru bid a similiar farewell and followed her out.

Ami watched them disappear around the corner, then took a deep breath and let it out again in a woosh. She was not surprised when a pair of strong arms encircled her waist from behind and a familiar body pressed against her back. The genius only smiled and leaned into the unexpected embrace. "You were listening?"

"_You_ certainly were, love," Makoto said friskily, resting her chin on the top of Ami's head. The brunette inhaled and sighed happily as she was met with the scent of the other girl's strawberry shampoo. "How did you hear me walk up behind you? Are my stealth skills failing me at last?" Ami laughed her special, musical laugh that she seemed to reserve for Makoto alone.

"Mako, I think I've hung around you long enough to know your footsteps. How many times, exactly, have you tried to creep behind me into the bathroom, thinking you could follow me into the shower without my knowledge?"

"Heh, fifteen the last time I counted," Makoto answered, grinning at the memories of her trying to go incognito. It wasn't her fault that Ami was just so downright adorable she was practically irresistable.

"And how many times have I caught you at it?"

"Fifteen."

"It's not that you aren't sneaky, my dear. I just know you too well." Ami nodded matter of factly, also recounting Makoto's exploits. She had failed to mention the one time the young Kino had almost suceeded, but felt that the censorship was necessary. Makoto would just keep trying if Ami let on about it. Well, she would keep trying anyway, but Ami saw no point in encouraging her any further.

"You forget about all the times you let me in anyway, my little lovebunny. How many was it, again? It seems to have slipped my mind as well."

Ami colored at the nickname that had caused her so much chagrin the other night, but she felt her smile change to one of contented embarrassment anyway. "Fifteen." Makoto laughed and gave Ami's blue locks an affectionate nuzzle. Slowly, feeling full to burst with love, the brunette moved downward and gently nibbled an earlobe. An almost imperceptible shiver surged its way through the bluenette's small body. Makoto licked the outer shell of Ami's ear, causing her to meow huskily and arched her back slightly. Makoto had to smile at the reaction her touches elicited. It had happened a hundred times before, and yet she could never seem to get bored of it. Rather, it made her want to do it again and again.

"So, I guess I'm your hero now, huh?"

"You'll always be my hero," the girl in her arms whispered, instantly dead-serious. Makoto, not knowing how to respond, added a little more force to her hug and then broke away. She couldn't help the blush on her cheeks, but when she looked at Ami, she couldn't help her chuckling either. Her girlfriend just looked so cute standing there with a face redder than a newly picked cherry.

"Shall we go get that disk of yours, Ami?"

The genius smiled as she walked away, Makoto following at her heels.

"Tally-ho, the fox!"

(Some time later...)

"Dang, when did it get so dark? Did daylights saving time sneak up on me or something?" Makoto asked aloud after nearly walking into a wall for the second time. Inwardly, she was grateful for Ami's good memory and keen sense of direction. Otherwise they would have wound up just walking in circles until they went crazy.

"I guess they must turn off a lot of the lights to conserve energy and save money." Ami explained, then added, "Our school kinda sucks." Makoto laughed and nodded, seeing the reason in Ami's words. But it didn't change the fact that it was dark here, and it did not chase away the terrible sense of dread that was prickling up her spine. She still felt uneasy, and she guessed it must have shown in her eyes because the genius gave her hand a gentle squeeze. Makoto smiled, about to say something, when Ami suddenly stopped and nearly had five feet and six inches worth of brunette crash into her from behind. "Ah, here we go." Ami tried the doorknob, half expecting it to be locked. It wasn't, and swung open easily.

Pleased, Ami went ahead into the room. She made a beeline for the teacher's desk, but stopped after a few paces, feeling the absence of Makoto's presence behind her. Ami turned around. The tall girl was still out in the hall, her green eyes shining in the gloom as she moved her head this way and that. Makoto seemed to be listening for something; she looked like a timberwolf that has just caught wind of some new and unfamiliar scent, unsure if it meant friend or foe. A small, worried frown tugged at Ami's lips as she slowly approached her girlfriend. "Mako? What's wrong?" Startled, the brunette looked back at Ami. The young Mizuno tried not to show surprise at the stormy look quickly fading from the emerald pupils. Makoto sighed and flapped one hand in a manner that she hoped was reassuring.

"Nothing's wrong, Ami. I'll be right there."

The other girl nodded and, taking Makoto at her word, turned around and continued towards her objective. Makoto stood framed in the doorway for a minute longer, looking over her shoulder. She growled softly before following Ami into the computer room and shutting the door behind them. There was nothing extravangant or outrageously impressive about the room. Four tables lined with computers were stowed away in a corner. Beyond was a large desk, a wingbacked chair, and some filing cabinets. Nothing very special, yet Ami moved the papers on the teacher's desk with a care approaching reverence. After few minutes of shuffling and rearranging, Ami withdrew a floppy desk and put it in her pocket. She turned around and smiled at Makoto.

"Mission complete, love. Let's go."

Makoto nodded, grinned, and started for the door from which they had just come through. She was stopped by an embrace from behind. It was the same thing she had pulled on Ami earlier. "You didn't have to come with me." Makoto rolled her eyes and smiled gently. It was only a matter of time before Ami brought that up. For one so sweet and gentle, she sure seemed to like tugging and worrying at matters of small importance like an overly-anxious puppy with a new toy.

"I know, but I wanted to."

She was silenced as the arms around her waist were suddenly replaced by soft hands, and her silence was momentarily broken by her breath hitching in her throat with a small gasp as the hands blazed a path upward. Ami's next whispers were nearly lost to her amid the spasms of hot delight that wracked her lean frame.

"And I'm so glad you did."

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For the second time that day, Michiru could feel her brain leaking out her ears.

The two stood outside the school, a fair distance away from Haruka's car. As much as she trusted the violinist, Haruka was refusing to get into her car because Michiru had offered to drive. She had already been unconscious at the time when the other girl had comandeered the Ferrari to save her life that snowy evening, and the short drive to the hospitial simply didn't count. As far as Haruka was concerned, this would be the first "real" occassion with Michiru behind the wheel. Some might call her behavior a symptom of 'seperation anxiety', but those who knew her best would say that it was just Haruka being Haruka.

"Haruka, get in the damn car."

"Noooo."

Michiru smacked herself in the forehead. "Why not?" Haruka crossed her arms and gave the violinist a pout, but did not answer. Michiru narrowed her eyes and made a claw hand. "Your master commands you to talk. Meow." The racer started to smile, then held it back, then burst out laughing. Michiru might have come off as standoffish and somewhat unsociable to three fourths of the student body and faculty, but she always lasped into silliness whenever it was just her and Haruka. Love might have played a major part in that, but Haruka preferred to think that it also had something to do with how easygoing she, the sandy-blond in question, was.

You could say you kept your brother's teeth in a fine china cup under your pillow and she probably wouldn't care.

"Fine. It's because you're driving. You'll crash it. And then I'll die, and the world will then explode. Do you really want to bring the Apocalypse down upon us all?" Michiru rolled her eyes. She was aware that she should be feeling pretty offended right about now, but the fact the Haruka was grinning at her was not helping at all. Instead, the young Kaioh gestured to the idle Ferrari, hoping that her crush would notice how it was parked and that she herself was three feet away from it.

"How can I crash it? It's parked!"

"You're magical like that. Evil unicorn lady, I'm onto your conspiracy!"

The beauty let out an exaggerated sigh of defeat and flung her hands up in the air. "Fine, Haruka. YOU drive. I cannot, for it would result in fire and brimstone raining down upon mankind, womankind, and childrenkind." The track star simply smirked as she sauntered past Michiru, ignoring the sarcasm, and got into the driver's seat. After the young Kaioh had followed her example and buckled her seatbelt, Haruka slammed down on the gas and sped away from the curb. Michiru let out a loud 'eek' as her heart suddenly made a bid for her pharynx.

"Gah! Slow down, Haruka! Geez, I think you must have taken three years off my life!"

"That's what they all say."

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It was dark in the hallways of Mugen Gaken. Umino's breath whistled out from where he crouched, narrowly undetected.

That had been close.

He grumbled to himself as he quietly got to his feet and peered around the corner. For a few seconds there, he had been sure that Ami's friend had caught him. Umino didn't understand it. He had been careful, almost unaturally careful, to avoid detection. Perhaps it was because Ami had decided to complicate things by bringing that tall girl along. Umino narrowed his eyes. She was just going to get a disk! What possible reason could there be to have anyone with her? Stepping around the corner, Umino sighed and allowed himself to relax slightly. It had been touch-and-go for a few minutes, but the danger point was past. The two girls were in the room. He had his bait, now all he had to do was set the trap.

The teenager locked his eyes on the door they had just gone through and thought. After a few minutes he put down the two red, plastic jugs of gasoline he was carrying and walked down the hall. Umino was quieter than a cat on carpet, and he knew the two in the computer room wouldn't hear him, but it never hurt to make sure. He ducked into an open classroom and came back just as silently with a chair. Umino placed it under the doorknob and double checked to make sure it was secure, then picked up the containers and moved on. Once down to the first floor, the teenager set down his burden for a minute and looked around, staking out each claim. His expression never changed, but his lenses seemed to shine malevolently in the dim light. Then, using his thumbs, Umino popped open the jugs' stoppers and carefully tipped them over. He began to walk faster as sticky brown gasoline slowly poured out of the nozzle and splattered on the carpet.

Breaking into a light jog, he went into a classroom, ducked and weaved all over the place, then exited to do apply the same strange method in another room that was nearby. The containers were nearly empty by the time he made it back to the front entrance hall. Umino surveyed his work with satisfaction. Two of the first floor halls and at least four classrooms would certainly catch afire first. When that much space was ablaze and burning, the flames would quite likely spread to the rest of the landing. The other classrooms he had left undisturbed, save for opening the doors. They were filled with wooden chairs and desks, ancient books, and plenty of parchment-- the perfect kindling for a growing bonfire!

Sniggering noisily, Umino pushed open the front door and slipped outside. The late evening air was heavy with cold as it turned slowly towards the darkness of night. The young Gurio disregarded the dim gloom all about him and went down the front steps. He ran a fair bit into the courtyards and began inspecting the trees. He found what he was looking for in the farthest right hand corner of the lot. A huge, gnarled old oak. A large hole had corroded into the mighty ancient's neck, the work of many homeless birds and squirrels looking for a winter storage space. Umino roughly shoved the red jugs into the depression, one after another, immensely pleased when the cave extended up to his elbow. It made the perfect hiding place. A small smirk wormed its way onto his face. It couldn't have been more fortunate than if destiny had decreed it.

Throwing some mud and leaves into the hole to give it the illusion of being undisturbed, Umino went back to the front door. It had remained open in his absence. Entering the school for what would be the last time, he dug a packet of matches out of his pocket. Wiping one hand hurriedly on his pant leg, Umino opened the box with unsteady fingers. Victory was close, so close. It would taste so sweet, like the fruit of spring. He allowed himself a brief cackle when he finally worked out a lone match. Pressing the head against the box's side, Umino attempted to light the match. It took two more tries before a small flame flickered into existence. He waited for a minute, blowing gently on the result of his efforts to coax it into growing bigger. The small whirlpool of anticipation and tension in his gut swelled to almost unbearable porportions. Umino dropped the match onto the gasoline-saturated carpet and then turned away. He was satisfied; he needed to see no more.

Umino walked away, the rising crackle of the newborn fire in his ears, and headed for home. He made a note to wash his hands very throughly tonight.

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Makoto let out a loud, contented sigh as Ami leaned against her. They were both sweaty, disheveled, and panting heavily, but there was no place in the world the young Kino would rather be. Going by Ami's purrs of satisfaction, the same held true for her too. Makoto smiled fondly at the pair of blue eyes as they slowly opened. The genius looked around for a moment, blinked sleepily a few times, then seemed to notice the girl whose arms she was in. The brunette moved a few locks of hair that had been bothering her out of Ami's face.

"Do you always fall asleep after make-outs, or did I just wear you down?" Makoto smirked. "Am I that talented _and_ that special?" Ami smirked as well.

"Let's not get egotistical here. I've been stressed all day because of that stupid disk. I guess it caught up with me."

Makoto laughed. "I'm not gonna complain if I get to be your outlet every time. I was starting to get jealous of your computer." The other girl's voice suddenly became quiet and concerned. "Are you doing okay, though? You don't usually make the first move, as nice as it is and everything but I guess I'm just-" Her words were suddenly cut off by Ami's pointer finger pressing gently against her lips. Taking that as her cue to relax, Makoto kept silent as Ami drew back.

"Dear, you're rambling." The aspiring cook grinned sheepishly, but didn't say anything. She knew it was true. "Nothing's been wrong. I still feel a little guilty about...that...but otherwise I couldn't be happier." Ami's cheeks suddenly flushed a deep red and she looked away, mumbling her next sentences so softly that Makoto had to lean forward to understand her. "I guess I was just reliving last night in my head when we first got here, and that's why I got all touchy-feely. I'm sorry if it bothered you." Ami turned to give Makoto a beseeching look and got poked in the nose instead.

Listening to the subsequent squeak of surprise, the young Kino giggled. "You know we never even _did_ anything last night." Her victim rolled her eyes.

"Well, no _duh_. That's the whole point."

"What point? You confuse me with your cute logic and innocent smiles."

"You confuse me enough without me having to say anything! I mean, really Makoto. You can cook, clean, take care of children and pets, and could be the perfect housewife. But then I go over to your apartment and the place is a mess. Dirty clothes...everywhere! Trash can...overflowing! Closet...not even going to go there! It makes me wonder sometimes if I fell for Lois Lane or just a clever look-a-like."

Makoto snorted and turned away in mock-anger. "Gee, thanks. It's so nice to feel loved."

"You know I love _you_."

With the other girl didn't answer after five minutes, Ami stiffened, suddenly paralyzed with the fear that she might have seriously upset Makoto. She hadn't meant anything by her little joke. Really, she hadn't. _Maybe I should just keep my big mouth shut the rest of the time._ Putting a hand on the broad shoulder, the genius was a little scared to discover how tense the muscles were beneath her touch. Makoto turned back around so quickly Ami struggled to choke back a gasp. There was something perturbing in the brunette's green eyes now. The other girl opened her mouth, about to put forth her inquiry, when Makoto got there first and spoke a word that hung foreboding in the heavy air.

"Smoke!"

Makoto got up and strode purposely towards the door. She tried to open it, then yelped and leaped backward clutching her wrist. Her palm lay flat, the skin an angry red. It looked raw. Grimacing, Makoto slowly flexed her fingers and sighed when mere twinges of pain shot through them. It was better than the near-blinding agony she first experienced when her hand had clasped the doorknob. She shook her head and took a few experimental breaths. The pungent odor of smoke assaulted her nostrils again; she had not imagined it after all. Makoto frowned. Where there was smoke, there had to be fire. The tall girl instinctively moved away from the door, knowing the futility of trying to open it again. She had been lucky to get lightly scalded. Another attempt might actually take some skin off her hand.

A low growl rumbled low in her throat as Makoto returned to the still-seated, completely confused Ami. Beads of sweat started to form on her brow, much to her concern. Depending on how long the fire had been alive and how big it was, the temperature of the room could rise very, very high. Makoto felt sharp, alert, and strong, powered by the vitality of youth. She was thankful for it; she had a feeling that she would soon need every ounce of energy her body could give her. The brunette glanced over at the thunderstruck Mizuno and frowned inwardly. She would just have to have faith in Ami's calm nature.

"Ami?" Makoto spoke softly, tenderly caressing her love's face with one hand. The realization of being trapped in a fire had been shoved to the back of her mind for now. There were more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. They still had time. "Love, I'm afraid that we are trapped in this room, and the school is burning down. I have tried the door. It's locked, and the doorknob is too hot to touch." She said as calmly as she could manage. The young Kino had to fight to keep her voice level and the pool of icy dread in her stomach from growing. Ami turned to look at her, not comprehending. Makoto couldn't blame her. Only a few minutes ago they had been necking to their hearts' content, for once free of the fear that they would be walked in upon and discovered.

Makoto laid a feathery kiss upon Ami's cheek apologetically. If someone remarked to her later about how well she had taken everything in stride, Makoto would laugh in their face. She was just good at hiding things. After what seemed like forever, the smaller girl found her voice again. It came out bordering on the edge of a shrill squeak.

"Makoto?"

"Yeah?"

"I...I don't wanna die."

Makoto gave Ami's shoulders a soothing rub. "Shh. You're not gonna die. We'll think of a way out of here." The other girl was silent for a moment. Then she sniffled and sat down in the corner farthest away from the door. When smoke began to gradually seep into the room from underneath the door, she neither noticed or cared. Makoto sat down beside her and sighed mournfully. There was no place to physically retreat to, so Ami was trying to retreat into her mind. Knowing that her girlfriend needed time to herself, Makoto took out her phone and slowly placed a call to the fire department.

She had to go slowly, as her hand was shaking so much it was becoming increasingly difficult to hit the right key. To her right, Ami took out her own cell and just as slowly dialed Haruka's number.

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"Here we are, home sweet home."

"Speak for yourself. I don't live here."

Michiru smiled as she kicked off her shoes and placed her bookbag on the couch. Haruka wriggled out of her sneakers, dumped her backpack on the ground, and plopped down on beside the bookbag. She tried to maintain a passive expression as she watched Michiru stretch, flip her hair over her shoulder, and walk towards the kitchen. The minute the salacious figure was lost to sight, however, Haruka could not resist looking at the bookbag. There was no telling what kinds of books lurked within it, what kinds of magazine, or sketches, or possibly even a--

Haruka abruptly sat on her hands to stop them from inching towards the bag.

"It's none of your business," She spoke aloud to Michiru's curtains. "The bookbag is not yours, and you have no right to look in it. You will stop thinking about it. Tame the beast!"

"Tame the what now?"

The racer jerked and very nearly screamed aloud. Michiru looked down at her. She was munching on a pretzel and looked completely clueless as to what Haruka was talking about. Haruka let out an inner sigh of relief. "I was talking to my totem animal, of course. It's the panda. He kept wanting to eat this girl's bamboo hat and I was telling him off." She fabricated, grinning. Normally she hated lying, but this leaned more towards goofiness than outright malicious intent. Michiru raised an eyebrow but didn't question the ridiculous words she was hearing.

"Well then, what's my totem animal?"

"You take care of the panda," Haruka said, completely forgetting herself. She resisted the urge to clap a hand to her mouth and look terrified, although that was her initial reaction. The sandy blond quietly groaned in embarrassment and hoped that Michiru didn't read to much into those words. The violinist closed her eyes and smiled.

"That is somewhat true. After all, I still have the stuffed panda you gave me."

Haruka tried to snort contemptously. "You still have that old thing?"

Old? You gave it to me barely a week ago!"

"Feh. Anyway, what do you use it for? An underwear hanger?"

"No. He sleeps with me at night."

They looked at each other. A light blush tinged Michiru's cheeks, and Haruka told her rapidly beating heart that it was just because the violinist was hot. Of course, her heart didn't believe one of that, and part of Haruka didn't either. It was just so easy to accept as true that Michiru felt the same way, assuming it was still unfair to both of them. Michiru probably _was_ just a little flushed; it had nothing to do with Haruka or their conversation. Fortunately for the young Tenoh, her cell phone chose that second to go off. Casting a quick apologetic smile at Michiru, Haruka silently thanked Lady Luck profusely as she placed the receiver to her ear.

"Haruka? It's Ami."

Haruka's face split into a wide grin. It wasn't often that her blue-haired friend ventured to call anyone. Besides, although Haruka knew she could count on Ami for a civilized conversation, she was also the most easily flustered of all her friends. Just the ticket to get her mind off of a certain sea goddess and her mixed signals.

"Hey Ami. What's up? You two lovebirds getting on all right, wherever it might be?"

The sandy-blonde felt her heart, once pounding away at the sight of a certain flushed beauty, stop dead in her chest at Ami's next words.

"Our school is burning down."

"BURNING DOWN? Who...how...what the hell happened? Where are you?" Haruka shouted, leaping to her feet and feeling suddenly short of breath. She cast a worried look at Michiru, who had also stood up. The sea green-haired girl moved closer to Haruka, who moved the cell phone slightly so that she could hear. A chill swept over the both of them. They hardly noticed.

"Haruka, I'm sorry, but...me and my...and my friend are trapped in here. She's already called the fire department but...oh god Haruka I'm so scared. I needed to hear your voice, before I...no. Nevermind. We still have plenty of oxygen." The two continued to listen, eyes wide with horror, even as Ami started muttering to herself. Her murmurs were replaced with what sounded suspiciously like dry sobs. "Why did this have to happen, Ruka? I just wanted to get my project. I don't want to die!" There was a pause where the young genius' voice was replaced by a burst of furious sniffling. Ami seemed to be taking several deep breaths. "Nevermind, Haruka. We'll be fine until the fire department gets here. We'll be fine...be fine...oh god I'm so scared. I'm _terrified_." Ami was talking to herself again. Her words fell on deaf ears; Haruka was already sprinting out the door.

She made it to Michiru's garage at a speed so fast it was only by divine intervention that Haruka hadn't tripped and cracked her skull open on the concrete floor. Her motorcycle lay casually against the far wall. Haruka dashed for it. Pausing for a second to pocket her cell, she slid to a stop in front of her objective. Keyed up with adrenaline, the sandy-blonde gave a tremendous heave and lifted the vehicle off the ground. She carried it bodily to Michiru's driveway, then swung one leg over the seat and straddled it. Her deft fingers wrapped around the handles as she booted the kickstand up with one foot, keeping the motorcycle upright with the another. The rest was automatic; in the wake of the engine's roar and squealing tires, she was off, flying over the pavement until turning the street corner and becoming lost to sight.

Michiru stood where she was on the driveway, Haruka's skidmarks between her feet, for the space of two heartbeats. Then she was running back for the garage and what lay inside it: a certain silver Ferrari.

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A hand gently wiped sweat from her brow. Ami looked up from her cell phone and managed a weak smile. "Thanks Makoto." The brunette didn't say anything, didn't smile in return. Her green eyes only shimmered with tears as she stared at the heavily panting bluenette. Ami did not know if they were brought on by the smoke or by the reality of their situation. She closed her eyes and decided that she didn't particularly care to know. "I called her. Now there's nothing we can do but wait for the fire department." The genius slowly took a deep breath, careful to avoid as much smoke as she could. She never did have the best lungs. "I'm sorry. I'm not making things any better, are I?" No answer. Ami lifted her head and gazed morosely at the wall of fire. She tried to think of something, anything, she had done to deserve this. A single tear blazed a path down her sooty cheek. To roast like a witch, to die like a animal.

Was this her fate?

"Makoto," she whispered. Makoto would go with her. The idea heaped more shame upon her already-burdened heart. The brunette was strong. She had a chance of escaping, of living. Why didn't she go? Makoto didn't deserve to be dragged down by a girl so cowardly that she reduced the beautiful, gentle Kino to a dirty secret, a hidden lover kept from her closest friends. Ami's sadness felt cool against her flushed skin, but she still wished she could hold it back. It was another example of...of her... She bit her lip hard enough to break the tender skin. Of her pathetic weakness.

"Get out of here."

Makoto had been glaring at the fire, trying to distract her hurting heart from the sight of her love leaning crumpled against the wall and knowing that she couldn't take away the pain. Her attention snapped back to Ami at the sound of her voice. To her surprise, the girl was bleeding. Her lip was busted open, a thin line of red rolling apathetically down her chin. Makoto crawled forward, on her knees, to wipe it away. She ignored what the bluenette had said. She refused to hear it. Ami's hand grabbed her wrist and held it away. Makoto's eyes widened as they stared into a familiar pair of determined blue ones.

"Ami, wha-?"

"Get out of here. _Leave me_. As Gandalf said himself, 'Fly, you fool!'"

The brunette crinkled her brow first with confusion, then with anger as her brain accepted the meaning behind Ami's words. Makoto darted her head forward before the other girl could make a move, bringing them so close their noses were touching. Ami froze, and felt her wall of defense crumble to pieces. She was pinned by Makoto's electric glare. Helpless to resist, she closed her eyes and prepared herself for a slap. Instead there was a sweet wind of musky perfume and Ami felt her mouth become captured by the tall girl's own. Her head was spinning when they broke apart. Breathless, she looked up at Makoto. Twin emeralds held her in place once again, a sharp contrast to the soft smile beneath them.

"Never."

Silently, Makoto began to cry. Ami did not stop her.

"Never. _Never_. NEVER!"

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Haruka arrived at Mugen Gaken in a screech of tires and gunning engine roars.

She stepped off her motorcycle and upon a scene of chaos.

The first floor was all but drowning in a sea of flames, orange licked with the faintest tinges of red. The second floor's windows were awash in a never-ending stream of smoke billowing up and out into the night sky. It could not, however, obscure the stars; they shone through the silky gray plumes like gleaming pinpricks of steel. The front of the school looked like an ancient, tortured face as it jutted out from the inferno, black and charred in its misery. The sandy blond felt her body immediately react as she stepped closer, trying to adjust to the bonfire's heat. Haruka squinted her eyes at the glaring beacon and felt a tear grow in one eye as she watched the building start to deteriorate. It was like watching a monument slowly crumble, somehow full of the dignity and nobility it had possessed when it was first built.

She kept walking, on course for the front entrance. The few firemen available scurried here and there, trying to forstall the fire's progression any way they could. It was a valiant effort, but until the big fire trucks got here they wouldn't get far. The vehicles were equipped with hoses that were bigger and better than the puny ones the early risers could scrape together. Without them, Mugen Gaken just didn't stand a chance. Neither, Haruka decided, did Ami unless she could get the genius out of there. The young Tenoh stared impassively ahead as she kept on. All other thoughts had fled from her mind, leaving no room for second thoughts or guesses. There was not a single place left where panicky fear and doubt could even get a toehold. Haruka took in a deep breath. What lay ahead would be more than just hazardous and fraught with perils; it would be an outright molestation of danger. She could fail in the attempt to save her friend's life so very easily, forsaking both her and Ami's chance in one fell swoop.

But Haruka knew that there was no way she could live with herself if she did not try.

A single unlucky recruit had finally caught onto what the track star was going to do. He ran forward and got between her and the entrance. "I'm sorry ma'am, but this building is off-limits to anyone who is not a trained and certified professional firefighter. Going in now would mean an extreme risk to both life and limb and I am bound by regulations to not allow any-"

"Sorry, mate. I'm on a mission." Haruka interrupted off-handedly as she shoved the chattering firefighter out of the way and stole his helmet.

Ramming it on her own head and clasping the ends together under her chin, the blonde gritted her teeth and flung herself at the building's door. The rotted wood gave away instantly under her weight and she hit the ground. She was inside. Fighting to see through the blazing light and struggling to breathe in the smoke-filled room, Haruka lifted her head and gazed around. Her surroundings danced and swam teasingly in front of her, hazy and indistinct. Every object was a shimmery mirage, every flutter of movement a blurry illusion. Pulling her shirt over her mouth and nose, Haruka scrambled to her feet. Then she thought better of it and dropped to her knees again, remembering what she had been taught. Crawling as fast as she could under the clouds of smoke, Haruka made her way down the hall. She was suddenly grateful for the helmet she had stolen when a burning hunk of wood and nails bounced off the top and went clattering to the floor.

Gulping slightly, Haruka continued until she reached the stairs. The racer cursed the fact that the computer classroom was on the second floor, a fact that would certainly make the rescue more difficult. On her hands and knees she advanced, scrambling up the steps while simultaneously hoping that they wouldn't give way beneath her. Her school was old and crappily-built even by the standards of the time it had been founded in. The walls were nothing but wood sandwiched between puffs of insulator and futher layered by plaster. It was a wonder students didn't regularly fall through the floor over the course of the semester. To her great surprise and reluctant delight, the smoke was considerably less up here. Haruka found herself able to stand and breathe moderately well.

But she knew how greedy fire was; it only reminded her of how little time Ami had left.

Calling upon all her knowledge of Mugaken's layout, Haruka set off at a run down the upper hall that an Olympic sprinter would envy. The numbers on the doors above her flitted past like light through a strobe machine. She turned the corner and lessened her speed to a fast trot. Sliding in front of the computer room, Haruka looked up to check the number above the door. It was the right place. She wiped the sweat from the brow, although she wasn't even slightly winded from her hurried pace. The fire was growing, and soon the smoke would too. Haruka dismissed these thoughts as her teal eyes noticed a most surprising thing.

There was a chair. Leaning back on its hind legs, top jammed under the door knob. A _goddamn chair_.

Somehow, Haruka knew that it was because of Umino. There was no evidence yet, but she k_new_. Her heart screamed at her. It was his fault that Ami and her friend were in so much peril of burning to death like witches on a stake. She snarled and thought of all the neat shapes she could twist his body into. The floor shook beneath them, plaster fell, the building gave an ominious rumble, and Haruka realized that now was not the time for violent fantasies. She would have time-- _plenty _of time-- to do that later. The racer first knocked the chair away, careful not to touch the doorknob. She felt instinctively that it could very well be hot enough to seriously burn her. After stepping back a few paces to give herself room, Haruka then kicked the door off its hinges.

With a look of unusually serene trepidation, she stepped into the smog-choked classroom.

It was hard to tell that the room had once stocked computers. Smoke swirled around Haruka's ankles and out the open door. Several bundles of melted plastic and corroded wires blazed like little bonfires, completely beyond repair. A wave of what felt like solid heat hit her like a blow to the face. Briefly gasping at the sudden contact, Haruka shook her head and looked around. At first glance, it seemed like the place was empty; but this was where Ami had called her from, and this was where Haruka knew her friend had to be. A flicker of movement caught in the corner of her eyes and the sandy blonde peered closer through the flames and dancing shadows.

Ami was huddled in a corner, gazing into space with wide, terrified, unseeing eyes. A brunette had her arms around the young Mizuno, trying to shield her, if not from the fire, then from the fear and dread its presence brought. Flaming planks and plaster fell around them, but Ami's knight in shining armor refused to move. She just knelt there, protecting Ami like her own life depended on it. From the doorway, Haruka let herself smile. Ami's lover, the source of much gossip, speculation, and teasing, was none other than Makoto Kino. Haruka had seen them together in the halls, but had dismissed the association as mere friendship.

The tall girl had been quite the fighter at the beginning of the year when she transferred. Always arguing, always putting the smack-down on some fool, always showing off her exceptional martial arts skills. Haruka mentally berated herself like she had after the encounter with Umino. Why hadn't she seen it? She had been there herself at the time when the two met on that fateful afternoon. Her dad hadn't been too happy with that 75 in Modern Japanese, and after a few threats concerning her license and party-time, Haruka had found herself plopping down into one of the many tutorial sessions that were held after school. Ami was there too. The teachers had requested her. She had been up at the board, explaining a problem concerning how to divide fifty five by quantum-something-or-other. Makoto had happened to look up when Ami turned back around. Their eyes met.

Ami had blushed and dropped her chalk, while the brunette's breath wooshed out her teeth in a low whistle.

Later, Haruka had always wondered why her friend seemed always so happy to oblige coming to tutorials on the days when Makoto was there, but had never bothered to look very deeply into it. It was one of her shortcomings, she'd be the first to admit it. Actually, Rei would be the first, but that's only because she could beat Haruka to it.

Pulling herself back to the present, the sandy blonde took only one more second to admire the brunette's courage. It was all she could afford Makoto right then. The building gave an ominous, unnerving tremble, reminding Haruka that she had to move fast. There was no point in saying a word to issue a warning; Ami wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings, and Makoto had her eyes clamped shut. Besides, the track star was painfully aware that her voice would be lost in the crackle of the fire. Haruka ran forward. Makoto somehow found the will to open her eyes and look at the stranger who had roused her. When she saw it was one of Ami's friends, she let out a grateful sigh and gently shook the girl beside her.

Seeing Haruka was there, Ami managed to smile. Haruka returned it, but motioned that they had to go. She headed back towards the door, Makoto a few steps behind her.

Ami got up and tried to follow them. Her legs shook, then collapsed, and she crumpled to the ground. Makoto rushed to the young Mizuno's side. Refusing to waste breath on words, Makoto uttered a low grunt and lifted Ami into the air. Cradling the genius's head in the crook of one arm Makoto upped her pace to catch up with Haruka. The sandy blonde smiled grimly and gestured back the way the way she had come with a nod of her head. Makoto set Ami down and watched as she made a few hesitant steps forward. Haruka nodded appreciatively. The three looked at each other, and, once checking that all was understood, set off.

Their footsteps pounded on the worn carpet as they executed a mad dash down the hall.

When they reached the stairs, Haruka felt her heart sink down into her stomach. The way was blocked by a barring stretch of fire and broken wood, effectively cutting off any escape. Realization dawned on Haruka as she looked up. There was a jagged trench-like hole in the wall almost above where the hodge-podge dam was blazing. The rumble they all had felt back in the computer room had been when the weakened section of the ceiling had given away and plummeted down. Peering over the flames Haruka could see that nearly half of the stairwell had been laid to waste by the fall of scorched wreckage. Nothing living could get through.

"I guess there's no chance of getting over this thing, is there?" Haruka asked aloud wearily, already knowing the answer.

"None. Even if by the grace of God we manage to avoid getting fried, we would break our necks on the rest of stairs, hitting it that fast. If not our necks, then most surely our arms, or wrists, or ankles, or legs. It's not worth it." Makoto replied grimly and glared at the wall of fire. She too knew that an attempt to clear the desolate, fiery expanse would only end in death or severe injury. Ami shivered and stepped closer to the brunette, seeking comfort. Makoto looked at her fondly and squeezed her hand. Haruka noticed but said nothing. In the back of her mind she was growing to like the other girl. Haruka made a note to talk to her some more after this whole fiasco was over. If either of them survived it, of course.

"Are there any other staircases we can use?" Makoto inquired, turning to Haruka.

"I think there's one farther along this hall," Haruka motioned to her right doubtfully, "but I'm not sure where, exactly. It's been awhile since I've used it."

Makoto shrugged and cracked her knuckles. "It's better than just standing here. I say we try it!" Looking from her to an earnestly agreeing Ami, the sandy blond sighed. She straightened up, wiped some sweat from her forehead, and nodded.

"All right then. Let's go! The faster we get there, the faster we can get out."

Heeding her own words, Haruka sped off down the hall. Ami and Makoto followed at a slightly slower pace, giving the young Tenoh an easy lead as she searched for the door that would lead them all out of danger. A short time later she disappeared from view as she darted into an open doorway. When the two other girls caught up with her, panting slightly, they found themselves in a empty classroom instead of a stairwell. Haruka stood in the middle of it, looking subdued and crestfallen. She rubbed her temples and sighed.

"Sorry guys. I could've sworn that this was where it was. I must be getting old."

Makoto walked into the room and heartily clapped Haruka on the shoulder. "Ah, first time for everything. Come on, it's got to be around here somewhere." The jovial expression vanished from Makoto's face as the building shook again. The three girls had to hold onto one another to keep from falling over. The brunette's voice was calm when she spoke again, but her eyes betrayed their serenity. "Might want to put a rush on that last order, friend." There was another shake, this one sending down a rain of plaster.

"Something is getting ready to fall again. We've got to get out of here!"

Haruka was already turning around as soon as the words were out of Ami's mouth, feet scrambling, pushing desperately against the ground. There was a moment where Haruka didn't go anywhere, her legs going up and down on some invisible stairway. Then forward motion kicked in and the racer was propelled bodily forward. She got three steps before the building shook yet again. Four steps before the others finally joined her.

She had made it to the doorway when the floor shuddered beneath her feet and flaming pieces of the rafters plummeted down and blocked the doorway.

Haruka skidded and dug her heels into the ground, but inertia had her in its grips. Realizing the futility of trying to stop or even slow down, the sandy blonde flung her arms up to protect herself, shut her eyes, and waited to hit the fire. Then there was a sharp tug at her neck and Haruka flew backward, away from the heat, Makoto's hand wrapped tightly around the collar of her shirt.

Two pairs of hands caught her and saved her what could have been a very nasty fall. Muttering a thanks to all concerned, Haruka took a deep breath and looked around. They were well and truly trapped in this room, so what now? The situation was not looking good at all. No, forget that. The situation wasn't within fifty miles of even looking _bad_. The situation right now was _terrible_. It might have been better if there was anything in the room they could have used--fire extinguishers were at the top of the list- other than an empty bookshelf, a small window, and a heap of motivational posters. As the bookshelf was bolted to the wall it was deemed of no importance, so instead Haruka made her way to the window. (The posters were just pissing her off; how could anyone stay positive when they're trapped in a burning building anyway?)

To her great irritation it was bolted shut from the outside. Haruka supposed that she could break through the glass, but seeing as there was no way any of them besides Ami could fit through it in the first place, there was no point in trying. It wasn't worth the pain and the bleeding fist. Moving over a little to let Makoto and Ami get a look at the frustratingly nearby fire escape, Haruka pressed her ear against the window to see if there was anything to hear. More specifically, if the goddammed fire trucks had arrived yet. The firemen with only a few small hoses wasn't enough. After encountering nothing but silence for a few depressing minutes, there was a sharp sound of crackling static and then a welcome voice met her ears.

"Haruka!"

"_Haruka_!"

"HARU- Wait, is this thing even turned on? What the hell?"

The sandy blonde was stunned for moment, her heart rising in her throat, before she finally burst out laughing despite the situation. Shuffling even more to the side, Haruka closed one eye and peered out. She could faintly see the violinist shaking a bright red megaphone like it had insulted her. Haruka grinned, all her troubles forgotten for that instant. Apparently, Michiru was having some technical difficulties. She pressed against the glass, trying to keep Michiru in sight. Despite being in a matter of life or death, bone-weary, and covered in soot, Haruka couldn't help but wince as her crush flung the offending hunk of metal against a tree. She hoped that she didn't have to pay for that.

Beside her Ami was unpreoccupied with the outside world. She was looking around, her eyes darting everywhere in a desperate search for a way out. The door was blocked by a mound of flaming wood and plaster. The fire posed an very real, very deadily threat of eating up what little oxygen there was left. Behind her, Makoto coughed and hacked as if she had a lump in her throat and needed to dislodge it. The corners of her eyes were red and irritated from the smoke stinging everyone's eyes until it became nearly impossible to see. They had to get out through the window to where Michiru and the fire department were waiting. But the window was far too small for anyone but her to be of use, and the young Mizuno knew that she could never abandon her friends to save her own hide. Ami crouched down and clenched her eyes shut.

A way out of here.

A way out of this deathtrap.

Ami clutched at her temples, digging in with her nails as no ideas came. No stroke of luck. No spark of inspiration. The room was getting hotter and hotter by the minute. Ami let out a choked sob and dragged her hand down the left side of her face. She pressed hard enough to draw blood and felt pain so exquisite it forced her eyes open. Ami pulled her hands away from her face in disgust and pressed them into her lap. She couldn't afford to hurt herself now.

The bluenette snarled and tried to summon every last ounce of intelligence she possessed to think of a plan of escape. Time was running out. Soon the only question left to answer would be whether they roasted to death or merely suffocated and lay waiting for their bodies to burn. With a shudder, Ami forced the gruesome images from her mind and concentrated once more at the task at hand. It was her chance to not only save herself and her friends, it was her chance to be worthy. Of their friendship, of Makoto's love. Ami needed this chance, and knew it just as well as she knew that they would all perish if she didn't take it.

No idea made itself known. Growling, the genius slammed a fist against the wall in frustration. It was childish to lose her temper in a life or death situation, but it wasn't fair. She was the smartest kid in the school and yet she couldn't conceive of a way to escape from a stupid fire. A stupid _stupid_ fire that was going to kill them all. Haruka would never get to tell Michiru that she loved her. Michiru would never tell Haruka that _she_ loved _her_. Rei, Minako, and Usagi would never know what had really happened and would have to live with the knowledge of never getting to say goodbye. And Ami would never be able to keep her promise to Makoto. All that time, all those tears, would be for nothing. Nothing. _Nothing._

Ami couldn't take it; she dropped to her knees and screamed. It was a anguished, heart-wrenching sound.

Haruka and Makoto stared at her in suprise, watching their friend drown in the storm of her inner crisis. Neither moved to comfort her. Neither dared to; their own fear was too fresh. Blinded by grief and rage, the young Mizuno flew at the only wall free of posters and shelves, pounding it wildly with her petite hands. The wood refused to yield. Ami kept screaming, only now the screams had begun to form words. "Let me out! Let me out of here! I don't want to die! It's not my time! Let me out! God damn it, it's not my time!" The aspiring doctor shifted to a new strategy, stepping back and slamming her shoulder against the wall, still screaming. Only now, her lament had changed as well. "It won't be for nothing!" _Wham._ "It won't!" _Wham._ "I WON'T LET IT BE FOR NOTHING!"

"Not!"

_Wham._

"For!"

_Wham._

"NOTHING!"

Makoto looked at Ami, mouth agape. Her girlfriend's attack on the wall had left her too bewildered for words. She stepped forward and grabbed Ami's shoulders, thinking that perhaps the confusion and fear of the situation had driven the other girl either insane, suicidal, or both. But Ami thrashed and bucked so hard under Makoto's hold that the brunette lost her hold and was forced to step back. Haruka darted forward, prepared to restrain Ami herself. She would damned if she stood by any longer and let the short girl kill push herself so hard, so needlessly. Ami could kill herself. Yet it was one of those rare times when Haruka missed her target. Ami went sailing past and hit the wall again. She started to go again, when the mad strength finally left her and Ami collasped into Makoto's arms. The never-ending scream that had torn its way from her throat was ebbing into a hoarse, despairing moan.

"Not for nothing...please, God..._not for nothing_."

Makoto hugged Ami tighter and sat down with her. Ami stared at the wall with glazed eyes, silent except for a few lingering sniffles. Haruka slunk down in defeat as well. She watched the couple with a weary kind of happiness as the brunette tried to comfort the unresponsive Mizuno. Makoto suddenly covered her mouth with a hand and coughed hard enough to make Ami finally look up at her. When she eventually stopped, she seemed to be more on the verge of passing out than Haruka could've thought. Her body refused to stop shaking, eyes fluttering open and closed. Just now, Haruka and Ami noticed that her tan skin had turned a pale ashen-gray. The sandy blond marveled how she kept her body awake, however barely. Haruka had a feeling that she was forcing herself conscious only for Ami, a sentiment that her lover did not appear to share. Ami was too busy clutching onto Makoto and blaming herself to either smile or cry now. The thought brought a sad smile to the blonde's lips, if only because it reminded herself of Michiru.

The track runner suddenly wondered if she would ever get to see the beautiful girl again.

She closed her eyes and tried not to weep at the thought of dying before getting a chance to confess. Would Fate really be so harsh to her? Haruka sighed and held her head in her hands. The next minute had her up and about, walking from one room to the other with long, agitated strides. She reached the wall, walked back across the room, then went to the wall again. Haruka gave it an angry glare and one quick punch before whirling away as to not to look at it. Tears tumbled down her cheeks and she was thankful. They were a blessed relief in the sweltering heat. Haruka snarled, stomped over to the corner, sat down, and was consumed by her inner rage. Makoto spared her a sympathetic glance, but her own wailing heart prevented her from giving any further consolation.

Meanwhile, the sharpness had finally returned to Ami's sapphire eyes.

She had noticed with almost offhand casualness that the wall was shaking from the racer's blow. Not as hard as it had been in the midst of her own flurries; even now it was stablizing again; but it had shook. The implications and possiblities of the small event sent her sanity teetering on the brink again. Even as she thought about it, a few chunks of dried plaster tumbled out. The wall was crumbling. Her efforts hadn't been for nothing, had not been in vain. Haruka's timing and the devil's own luck proved that. Ami's eyes opened wide. Her mind screamed as it pulled back from the dark abyss and latched onto something that could only have been an idea. Scrambling up and away from the comfort of the young Kino's embrace, Ami walked over to the place where Haruka had struck the wall. There was a crater. It was small, but it had produced more of an effect than her own desperate efforts had.

That was to be expected, as Haruka was both taller and stronger than herself. Not caring that Makoto and even the fuming Haruka were looking at her with a wary curiosity, Ami decided to conduct a quick investigation. Balling her hand into a fist, she whammed it heartily against the wall. The impact stung. She ignored it. The wall shook. Ami took a step back, blinked, and stared at it. She hit it again and marvelled as it yielded the same result.

Daring to feel the smallest bit hopeful, Ami bent down slightly and gave the wall an experimental smack with her left shoulder. It trembled. Ami did it again, hearing cautious footsteps behind her. Pausing in her assault, Ami sent the other two girls a defiant glare.

"Breaking that wall down just may be our only chance. Help if you want, but don't try to stop me."

She flung her tiny body at the wall with all of her might this time, ignoring the twin gasps of surprise at her answer. Makoto looked helplessly from Ami to Haruka and back to Ami again. She felt pressured to do something; surely Ami had indeed gone crazy. But her girlfriend's violent actions now seemed driven by purpose and not empty fury. Makoto swept her gaze from the shuddering wall, then to the fire-blocked doorway, evaluating. Then, with a sigh, the young Kino turned to face the wall, let out a roar, and rushed forward.

Her legs pumping like pistons, her footsteps pounding on the old wooden floor, Makoto hit the wall with amazing force. There was a sickening crack and the room shook wildly. Haruka fell onto her back, looking up at the cracked ceiling in dumbfounded surprise. All at once the wall seemed to buckle a little under them, creating a very slight dent in its usually ruler-straight profile. Plaster cascaded down from the deteriorating ceiling and layered everyone's head and face. Gritting her teeth and tensing her muscles, the brunette focused all of her strength into another bull-like charge and slammed her shoulder against the wall again. Ami turned to look at her for a spilt second, then turned back to their objective. There was a small smile on her lips as they both stepped back and then came crashing back onto the unyielding barrier at the same time. Grunting, Makoto stepped back and rubbed her shoulder.

"Damn, that hurts." The bluenette glanced at her sharply but offered no rebuke.

They continued the assault, heedless of every thing else. Haruka sat there, speechless. She knew what they were doing. She knew that she could help. But she was completely overwhelmed. The idea that they weren't yet doomed to die was still dawning upon the racer, stretching out the moments. Haruka turned to gaze at the tiny window. Michiru was out there. She was waiting, hoping, maybe even praying, for a miracle. Haruka looked down at her hands, questions circling in her mind like a swarm of buzzards. If Makoto and Ami succeeded, would it really be a miracle? Or only luck? She wanted to speak to Michiru one last time. Did she, Haruka Tenoh, have any right to give up?

Did she have any right to reject this chance at life?

Perhaps the heat was affecting her judgement, because the track star felt herself get to her feet. Haruka didn't take a step forward. She was still too deep in thought. Meanwhile, Ami hit the wall for another countless time and then crumpled to the floor. Makoto knelt down beside her, breathing heavily. The bluenette said something indistinct. Makoto nodded and stood up. Without sparing a glance at Haruka, the brunette kept on pounding away. There were several cracks in the plaster now, Haruka noticed in a methodical kind of way. Freedom, if it was even real, couldn't be far out of reach. She stood, watching impassively, as Makoto finally fell down and did not rise again.

The next moment was filled with harsh, guttural screams and fierce, echoing bangs as Haruka finally joined in the fight. Step back. _Slam_. Step back. _Slam_. It went on for an interminable amount of time. Haruka's eyes were clenched shut, her legs moving mechanically, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Every hit sent jarring agony down into her bones. _It wasn't important._ Her heart was wailing and crying as it beat furiously to keep up. _It wasn't important._ Heavier and heavier her legs seemed to become as she lifted them up and down, again and again, like invisible weights were being slowly but surely added. _It wasn't important. _Haruka finally stepped back and stood there, slumped, blind through the screen of sweat and tears that ran into her eyes.

Panting, Haruka felt her charge lose power. She was battered, bruised, almost broken. No strength to scream, no strength to cry. She couldn't even feel her shoulder now. Part of her was glad for that; it gave her one less think to think about. A another rain of plaster crumbled down around the three girls' heads, but they ignored it. Ami rolled over, and Makoto brushed it off the best she could. Haruka felt herself getting weak from the poor air. As she stepped back again, she chanced a quick look at the others and knew that it was affecting them too. Makoto lay spread eagled on her back, fighting for each breath. In contrast, Ami was curled up into a ball. Her own breath came in great shuddering gasps.

Haruka looked at them and angrily brushed a lone tear from her eye.

She pulled back for one final attempt. Her shoulder was wide awake now, and asking what the hell had she done to it. _Body barely moving, barely feeling...hurting. Anguish. Let it be over this time._ She took a deep breath and filled her mind with the image of her friends' collapsed bodies. In response Haruka felt her own body ache, protesting, begging for the same release. She snarled, ignored it, and limped to the other end of the room. Haruka turned around. She narrowed her eyes and began to run. Slowly at first, then picking up such speed and momentum that when she threw herself at the wall for the final time, it broke under her.

There was no time to stop, no time to speak.

In a flash, Haruka had rolled into a ball to protect herself the best she could. With a series of loud splintering noises, she crashed out of the building and into open space. Her mind registered the lack of safety nets on the ground far below an instant before gravity did. In an attempt to stop her downward plummet, Haruka flung a hand out blindly at the hole she had just created. Her fingers encountered nothing but air for a few terrifying seconds. Then they struck the ledge and almost bounced off. Haruka growled and grabbed for it; her grip held. The immediate danger past, Haruka let herself breathe before doing anything else. She needed any strength her body could give. She needed it _now_, or she would never need it again. "Yo, Makoto? Ami? Guys? Help me out here!" She yelled after a few minutes, then realized that her friends were probably still recovering from being deprived of oxygen.

Haruka looked down over her shoulder.

She was only about two stories up, but at that unfortunate moment a long repressed fear of heights came alive, kicking and screaming. Her stomach gave a horrible jolt like it was trying to crash through her skin, and Haruka turned her view back towards the heavens. As she lay there, dangling, the track star couldn't help noticing that the night sky had turned orange. It was strangely beautiful. Haruka suddenly felt her one hand lose traction and start to slip, and the sky vanished swiftly from her attention. The young Tenoh tried to get a foothold on the weatherbeaten panels of wood. When her attempts failed, she swung her other arm up to grab hold of the edge she clung from. She missed and fell back, scraping her cheek along the wall as she did.

Annoyed, Haruka decided to just hang there and conserve energy until the firemen got their damn safety nets up. Cocking one ear to the activity going on below her, she couldn't help smirking as a familiar note struck her still slightly deafened ears and bounced around inside her head. It was most definitely Michiru's voice, and she was apparently telling the firemen to get off their asses and help Haruka down.

"Ma'am, on the count of three, we need you to let go of the ledge. There are safety nets below you to break your fall." The young Tenoh felt like laughing. In addition to smacking the firemen around, Michiru had also informed them of Haruka's gender. The violinist never forgot to include the important things in times of crisis, it seemed.

"One!"

Haruka looked back over her shoulder and gulped. It was a considerable fall.

"Two!"

She shut her eyes. Images of her body missing the nets and splattering to the ground raced briefly across her mind.

"THREE!"

But all of that was forgotten when she let go of the building's edge and fell.

Down...

Down...

And landed in the safety net. Haruka felt it give underneath her for a moment before experiencing a feeling of weightlessness as the net bounced her back up into the air. She flailed a little, then hit the net again and rolled off onto solid ground. Almost as soon as she had successfully landed, she was set upon by medics asking if she was hurt. They were so eager they bordered on aggressive. Well, Haruka could be aggressive too, and it showed when the orderlies all but ran away from her. Haruka laughed to herself, then winced. She rubbed her cheek and looked up at the jagged opening in the side of the building. Silently, she willed the other two girls to wake up.

Meanwhile, fresh oxygen was flooding into the building, setting the remaining girls' hearts and lungs pumping anew to get the sweet air into their bloodstreams. Ami slowly sat up and took a deep breath, and started laughing in spite of herself. Makoto soon joined in, glad just to be alive and able to laugh together like it was a normal thing. Like they hadn't come so close to death that they were still subconsciously pinching themselves to see if it wasn't all a cruel, final dream. Ami found herself able to think clearly, her thoughts sharp and free of the fire's heavy smog. Makoto felt her old alertness return to her in full, her skin prickling as her nerves woke up again in respond to her body's rejuvenated call. The wail of police and fire truck sirens, chatter, and the suddenly loud crackle of the flames from below pierced their eardrums. Sound had meaning again. They were alive.

Ami moved forward to embrace Makoto, love shining in her eyes, but a strong hand kept her away. Makoto shook her head and smiled, nodding at the large hole in the wall. There would be time for snuggling later. Ami sighed, then nodded. She would go first. Standing up, she walked to the gap and turned around. With Makoto holding her hand, Ami clambered backward out of the building. At the firemen's verbal signal, the genius jumped. Makoto poked her head out and waited until Ami was off the safety nets before leaping out herself. The minute the two were together again, the medics who had bothered Haruka came upon them like the wrath of Dr. God.

Haruka watched as Makoto tried to shoo those that came after her away, then get lifted and carried bodily into a nearby white tent. Ami was soon ushered in behind her by a similiarly dressed orderly. Haruka had a minute to grin before she felt two hands on her back shoving her in the direction of yet another tent. Frowning, she spun on her heel and glared at the sneaky medic. He gulped and ran off like the others had, mumbling something about a tea kettle. Haruka huffed and started walking away. She didn't get two feet before someone tackled her and nearly bowled her over. For a fleeting moment, Haruka almost believed it was Michiru. Yet it was not so, and she couldn't deceive her eyes anymore than she could command her heart to stop beating.

The sea green hair she wished for was instead an oddly familiar purple-black. The racer's disappointment and confusion cleared as she realized who it was, replaced by a joy no less greater than she would have felt it if was indeed Michiru. Haruka looked down at the sobbing girl around her waist.

"Rei? Rei, what's wrong?"

The miko stopped her tears long enough to look up at Haruka with a smile almost too big for her face. With more strength than one would expect her to possess, Rei pulled Haruka into a enormous bear hug. "That's the stupidest question I've ever heard you say. Seriously, I think you hurt my brain. You should just keep quiet from now on to preserve my poor, abused mind." Haruka smirked. She just couldn't help it.

"That's quite an insult, coming from someone who abuses her brain on a regular basis by trying to keep track of more than one thing at a time. Do I smell burnt toast? Yes, I do indeed smell burnt toast."

"How can I be the stupid one here, when it was _you_ who ran into a burning building? Don't you have any idea how worried I was about you? You idiot! "

Hauka opened her mouth to protest, but Rei beat her to it.

"What didn't someone _tell_ me? I...I could've helped you! I could have at least been there with you! Do you get it, you big dummy? You could have died! You and Ami could have died and me and Michiru would have been left in the lurch!" Rei yelled, hitting Haruka's uninjured shoulder but not having the will to do any real damage.

After all the danger, all the confusion, all the _shit_ the racer had been through that long, harrowing day, Haruka supposed that by all rights she should feel annoyed. Rei hadn't been the one about to die, in a burning building with two other friends, and with a love that remained forever unspoken upon her lips. And yet the smile on her face was so big Haruka had trouble wiping it away as she placed her hands on Rei's shoulders. One of the worst things for anyone to deal with was knowing that you had lived while your friends had perished, wondering if in some way it was your fault. Wondering if you could have saved them, but were simply too blind or stupid or weak to do so. Musing on that, Haruka looked Rei in the eye and gave the miko her most solemn look

"Rei, listen to me." Rei did, even though her vision was suddenly watery again.

"I didn't want to do it, but I had to. How could I have called myself Ami's friend if I stood by and let her die? The only reason I made it inside at all was because the firemen were a lot more sparse and hell of a lot stupider." Haruka smiled as Rei chuckled weakly. "You saved another life from being lost just by staying outside and having faith in us. Your own. What more could you have done, Rei? It wasn't your fault. Please, don't blame yourself. "

Rei paused, as she was about to continue doing just that, the normally headstrong expression on her face faltering as she gazed into the resigned blue-grey eyes of her friend. There was silence from both of them. People chattered amongst themselves. Firemen barked orders to other firemen. Sirens flashed. Finally, reluctantly, Rei nodded, but before Haruka could move on she stopped her in her tracks again with a defiant grin that, while not quite able to mask the shame that hadn't yet been wiped away, did a good job of trying.

"Fine, fine, whatever you say. But next time, don't think you can just leave me out of all the action!"

Face splitting in two with a smile at her often exasperating best friend, Haruka playfully ruffled Rei's hair to show that she did indeed understand. Rei attempted to hold her own grin in place. She lost it, but even her final choked sob merely softened her classmate's smile as the sandy-blonde stepped away. Despite the tears trickling down Rei's face, glittering in the light from the sirens like tiny pearls, the steadfast look was back in her eyes and that promised more than anything that the black-haired girl would keep her word. Rei was a strong kid. She wouldn't let survivior's guilt drag her down.

Haruka cracked another grin, this one more true to life, and gave Rei a teasing punch on her shoulder. "Now stop cryin'. We're in public, with cops and other authorities. I don't wanna go to jail because they think I did something."

Rei laughed and smacked the racer's hands away. "Fool. I don't cry. Maybe _you_ do, when the vending machine's busted and you can't get your Milky Way fix, but I don't." The miko's eyes widened for a minute at something over Haruka's shoulder. When the other girl turned around in confusion, she slipped away to the medical tents to find Ami. Rei knew that this was not a scene she had any right to be privy to.

"Michi..." Haruka started, looking at the deadpan young Kaioh with a pleading expression as she was led away from the crowd, then stopped as the other girl caught her in a clinging hug. A twinge of pain shot through her shoulder. She gamely tried to ignore it and concentrate on the lovely experience of Michiru's body press, press, pressing against her own. And oh, those eyes were staring at her, making her heart kick up into sixth gear. Her legs were shaking; they felt weak. Talented fingers suddenly brushed against her tender cheek, bringing shivers. Gah. Michiru was a walking health problem.

"Yes?"

Haruka wanted to tell Michiru that the hug was killing the hell out of her shoulder, but then she changed her mind.

"Oh, nevermind. It was nothing."

Somewhat reassured, the violinist buried her head in the sandy blonde's collarbone, trying her hardest not to cry. She could barely believe that her Ruka was still alive, still so pleasantly warm, still so beautiful it made her go crazy. It had taken four firemen to restrain her from running inside the burning building when she heard what Haruka had done. They had said that the last person to go in never came out. Haruka slowly wrapped her arms around Michiru as well, not really paying much attention to what she was doing. She gazed moodily at the distant stars, her thoughts in a whirl. The time to speak them aloud was coming.

_I almost lost my chance back there. I might never get another one again. The building could collapse right now and crush me where I stand because of my stupid procrastination. Or a stupid drunk driver could run over her tomorrow because I was too cowardly to say that I love her, have loved her from the start. Did I escape tonight to let it all slip away?_

_No!_

_NO!_

_I WILL say it! I can handle if she hates me, if she never talks to me again, but I WILL SAY IT!_

_I have to. No, I must.  
_

Haruka pulled back far enough to look the other girl in the eye. Her mouth was caught in a half-smile, half-frown. Michiru's widened as she saw the emotions shining so clearly in the teal pupils. Her breath caught in her chest, and she remained silent. To speak now would be treacherous. Beyond them, there were sounds other than their twin beating hearts and muffled sighs, sights that were more than just each other's faces. Here was a separate world. The moment of reckoning was getting closer. Haruka closed her eyes for a brief instant and steadied her nerves.

_ Michi, I have nothing left than this, so please...please understand.  
_

The racer leaned forward, not daring to blink, until their noses were nearly touching. The moment was fragile, so easily breakable. She felt her heart try to crawl up her throat and she shoved it roughly back down. "You must be my guardian angel, Michi." Haruka breathed out before closing the space between them with a tender, begging kiss. The first shocks of hopelessness and terror faded from the young Tenoh's mind, replaced by a bliss so fierce it almost hurt. Nothing could be worth trading this.

The time had come.

After what felt like both a second and an eternity all at once, Haruka pulled away. She looked at the violinist, refusing to cry. There was no regret in her eyes, but the melancholy more than made up for the lack of it. In another minute she would get on her motorcycle and leave, but for now she couldn't help saving the sight of those aquamarine eyes away in her heart. Haruka bit her lip so hard a dribble of blood coursed down the side of her mouth. She tried to move away.

Michiru grabbed her shirt and yanked her back into place, crashing their lips together once more. Eyes wide, Haruka felt herself comply. The second kiss turned swiftly from bruising to slow, delicate, lazy. The two drew back for breath.

The third time was explosive, spontaneous, feverous, and blessedly guiltless. Behind them, water from the firemen's hoses soared into the air like glittering fountains. The fire hissed as its life was viciously cut down, flames flicking for a minute before sputtering out of existance. Firemen yelled, the crowd cheered, and Minako wailed about the majesty of their crappy school somewhere in the background. When they finally broke away, all they found themselves able to do was smile goofily like they had just inhaled some sort of mind-blowing new drug. In a way, that was true. Haruka shivered happily as she wrapped her arms around Michiru again and simply held her, burying her face in the sweet-soft curls and feeling utterly at peace.

"You know, this is the part where I apologize and run away. I don't especially feel like doing that right now."

Michiru smiled as she ran her fingers through the short, sandy locks. She played with them gently. The other girl was good at keeping up a brave front, but even now she could barely hide the warm sense of belonging that was completely invading her being and making her knees wobble like a newborn colt trying to take a step.

_I don't need to say it. I never needed to say it. I just need to look in her eyes, and I know. The first kiss was from her, the second one was from me, but the third was both of us. Together.  
_

"I'm not really up to you escaping right now either."

Haruka cocked an eyebrow.

"_Escaping_, eh? Is that what its called these days?"

Michiru simply leaned forward and breathed hotly in Haruka's ear, one hand fiddling with the blonde's shirt collar.

"No...that's just what _I_ call it."

The taller girl froze, and had to be prompted by a fireman and his hose before she was able to move.

Really, Michiru was a damn tease.

Running a hand through her suddenly soaking wet bangs, Haruka laughed it all off and turned to look at the embarassed couple of Ami and Makoto. They were undergoing immense teasing from Rei and Minako, and Usagi's awe of Makoto's height was doing nothing to improve the mood. Haruka caught Michiru's eye. When the violinist raised one expectant eyebrow, her devotee winked. The young Tenoh strolled casually over to the harried duo, hands in her pockets and a grin on her face. Stopping in front of Makoto, Haruka tilted her head down ever so slightly. She hadn't noticed it before during the fire, but the brunette really wasn't that much shorter than her own sexy self.

"So, _you_ are the infamous Makoto that has set our little Ami's heart on its ear."

Makoto blushed deeply, but fought to keep herself from stuttering as she replied. "Uh, well, yeah. I guess so. That is...if she'll have me," the tall girl mumbled playfully. At this there was a exasperated snort from Ami, who rolled her eyes and latched onto Makoto's arm. Clearly unused to showing affection in public, Makoto floundered for a bit, but managed to recover fairly quickly. She looked at Haruka with a gaze that could quite easily turn thunderous. "Um, is there anything else you want to know?"

"Well, there _is_ one thing." Haruka drawled, tapping her chin and looking up at the heavens as if expecting an answer to fall from there, complete with sparkles and some frilly ribbons.

"Yeah?"

"May I call you...MakoMako?"

_**THE END **_

* * *

I know that a lot of you are probably wondering, "Yo, Rahu, why is Umino such a crazy bastard?" Well, I needed a bastard, for one. For another, I found it funny to twist Umino into aforementioned crazy bastard because he's probably the furthest thing from it, and because I actually kinda liked the guy. He's so spaztic. Anyway, I was also re-watching the early episodes, when Umino was all fanboying over Usagi. And I happened to think, "Hey, what if it was Michiru instead of Usagi, and the crush developed into a deadly obsession instead of, uh, switching to a different girl? PLOT DEVICE YAY." Besides, did anyone else notice how he was basically the evil ringleader of the hypnotized guys in episode two? I did. 

No, I don't know exactly where all the AmiMako fluff came from in this chapter. Ah well. All the RukaMichi luff in the past more than makes up for it. Why did Umino burn down the school? Well, why do people kidnap their children, shoot their spouses, and embezzle money, for instance? Because people _ARE FRIGGIN' CRAZY_.

You know, I've never realized just how much I liked writing this story until it was over. Wait, that's a big honkin' lie. I loved writing Panda Kisses every bit of the way and I WILL NEVER REGRET IT. Thank you, everyone, for your support. I've been reading a lot of Brian Jacques lately, so that might be influencing my next fanfic ideas.


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